tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69930850037291551512024-03-12T19:15:06.479-07:00i want to eat the whole worldfood / travelkatie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.comBlogger111125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-44595227509518810742010-04-19T06:51:00.000-07:002010-04-19T06:51:59.235-07:00Posts coming...I'm in the process of compiling all of my pictures/stories from the second half of March. What you have to look forward to:<br />
<ul><li>Italian Father's Day (and another trip to Piazzale Michelangeolo!),</li>
<li>French food, museums, and <i>beaches,</i></li>
<li>More pictures from my neighborhood and some typical dinner menus,</li>
<li><i> </i>A trip to a famous Florentine enoteca, and finally,</li>
<li>My cheesy, touristy, Florentine vacation!</li>
</ul>All of that from March. And then, of course, there's April... but you'll have to wait a few days for that to get going.<br />
<br />
If only I had kept this up form the beginning... It seems like a chore, now. I have to pack my camera, my laptop, all the requisite cords, and trek to the center to use the internet. When wireless isn't working at my university (about one out of three times), I lug my stuff to the Internet Train on via Guelfa and plug it in there.<br />
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I feel like I spend more time walking through Florence than doing anything else, except maybe eating. My roommate feels the same way. We're both always rushing to where we need to be. Italians say Americans are always in a rush, but it's impossible to avoid when you have to get from one end of the city to another in thirty minutes for a class you can't be late for.<br />
<br />
Maybe that's why the shops are never open; the Italians are all taking their time on the way to work. :)katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-7429968707292604022010-04-15T01:14:00.000-07:002010-04-15T01:14:45.426-07:00Apicius, Week SixLast class. Sicilian food.<br />
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This was the <i>best</i> meal we'd made, and fitting for my goodbye dinner.<br />
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Spaghetti alla Siciliana with eggplant, anchovies, black olives, peppers, and everything else good in the world. Stuffed swordfish with cheese and green olives. And finally a filled sponge cake, called cassata, with mascarpone cheese, chocolate, and a sugar-frosting.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUsWLZHuI/AAAAAAAABp8/k3Ecn6OzviU/s1600/IMG_2721.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUsWLZHuI/AAAAAAAABp8/k3Ecn6OzviU/s640/IMG_2721.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUxqDwabI/AAAAAAAABqI/JJxRhA3sQxw/s1600/IMG_2736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUxqDwabI/AAAAAAAABqI/JJxRhA3sQxw/s640/IMG_2736.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUuFeDocI/AAAAAAAABqA/rNBy8fRH7YE/s1600/IMG_2728.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUuFeDocI/AAAAAAAABqA/rNBy8fRH7YE/s640/IMG_2728.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NU0-NZyGI/AAAProxy-Connection: keep-alive
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<br />
It seems like the more I do and the more I should be posting, the less I actually do.<br />
<br />
Oh well! I'm getting back in the groove this week.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow I go to Prato, and next weekend, Sicilia! Another weekend and then it's Cinque Terre, followed by Malta (May 7 - 9, just in time <i>not</i> to study for finals)!<br />
<br />
I'm going to be busy, but since I know longer have any commitments on Monday (Week 6 being my last cooking class) other than volunteering, I think I'll be able to handle it. I want to take a day-trip each weekend to see the towns in Tuscany I haven't visited yet. <br />
<br />
Click <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/jhuKMO">here</a> to see what I've been up to. In the mean time, I'm going to do some writing...katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-68748211985138677592010-03-19T04:29:00.000-07:002010-03-19T04:29:18.171-07:00Piazzale Michelangelo<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUVfsvyqI/AAAAAAAABpQ/YG_MsWwgdSM/s1600/IMG_2657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="346" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUVfsvyqI/AAAAAAAABpQ/YG_MsWwgdSM/s640/IMG_2657.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
What do <i>you</i> usually do when you wake up on your friend's couch, hurting from the night before and starving?<br />
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<br />
<br />
Because I'm pretty getting kebab and hiking up to the top of the city would be a good thing for you.<br />
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It worked out pretty well for me.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUY6IuTTI/AAAAAAAABpU/0o366XgI4hQ/s1600/IMG_2658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUY6IuTTI/AAAAAAAABpU/0o366XgI4hQ/s640/IMG_2658.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUcI92F9I/AAAAAAAABpY/R7QIoGiBadU/s1600/IMG_2659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="448" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUcI92F9I/AAAAAAAABpY/R7QIoGiBadU/s640/IMG_2659.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUezIL2hI/AAAAAAAABpc/4Lfn8RRGUfw/s1600/IMG_2663.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUezIL2hI/AAAAAAAABpc/4Lfn8RRGUfw/s320/IMG_2663.JPG" /></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUgZaJ4VI/AAAAAAAABpk/op1T4PiitxY/s1600/IMG_2666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUgZaJ4VI/AAAAAAAABpk/op1T4PiitxY/s320/IMG_2666.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUh4215II/AAAAAAAABpo/fyHsC-b9RBs/s1600/IMG_2667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S6NUh4215II/AAAAAAAABpo/fyHsC-b9RBs/s640/IMG_2667.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">This one's for you, Stefania. :) </div>katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-86803972748659624112010-03-19T04:22:00.000-07:002010-03-19T04:22:44.228-07:00Apicius, Week Five<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqw7-45-I/AAAAAAAABlY/ElZl0kGZNik/s1600/IMG_2514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqw7-45-I/AAAAAAAABlY/ElZl0kGZNik/s640/IMG_2514.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqxxa_VgI/AAAAAAAABlc/orboeQSa8Tg/s1600/IMG_2537.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqxxa_VgI/AAAAAAAABlc/orboeQSa8Tg/s640/IMG_2537.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqgF5mPXI/AAAAAAAABkw/FIhdKD9kbmY/s1600/IMG_2543.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqgF5mPXI/AAAAAAAABkw/FIhdKD9kbmY/s640/IMG_2543.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqvkw18JI/AAAAAAAABlU/Ocgo9k2_2f0/s1600/IMG_2509.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqvkw18JI/AAAAAAAABlU/Ocgo9k2_2f0/s640/IMG_2509.JPG" width="346" /></a><br />
Time is going by <i>so fast</i>. I can't believe this was two weeks ago! Forgive me if I don't have much to say right now, I just want to get these pictures up, haha.<br />
<br />
It was Bologna week, which meant ragu two ways, spinach pie, and ridiculous chocolate salami.<br />
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I made new friends, named Julia (I'm kind of obsessed with her), Edwin, Cesar, and Alec. Edwin and Cesar and Julia are all legit pastry chefs.<br />
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I'm really, really going to miss these classes. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqpaqC57I/AAAAAAAABlE/pribwM2LPJY/s1600/IMG_2493.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqpaqC57I/AAAAAAAABlE/pribwM2LPJY/s640/IMG_2493.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqrvtuDHI/AAAAAAAABlI/7v734RWxUp4/s1600/IMG_2497.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="490" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqrvtuDHI/AAAAAAAABlI/7v734RWxUp4/s640/IMG_2497.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqs1XreHI/AAAAAAAABlM/2P8c4T3zLsM/s1600/IMG_2500.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqs1XreHI/AAAAAAAABlM/2P8c4T3zLsM/s640/IMG_2500.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zquPZlOTI/AAAAAAAABlQ/XhYLruoteM4/s1600/IMG_2505.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zquPZlOTI/AAAAAAAABlQ/XhYLruoteM4/s640/IMG_2505.JPG" width="532" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqiCKnAdI/AAAAAAAABk0/qFYtHYTrwuU/s1600/IMG_2551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zqiCKnAdI/AAAAAAAABk0/qFYtHYTrwuU/s640/IMG_2551.JPG" width="518" /></a></div>katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-77816606584703630392010-03-14T07:33:00.000-07:002010-03-14T07:33:30.665-07:00Castelo di Brolio<div style="font-family: inherit;">{Article for Blending Magazine}</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">Prepare yourself: From the time you park at the bottom of a hill and begin your hike up to the castle, you will be lost in time. </div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zopSC3aAI/AAAAAAAABm0/OKAmlfVHP1k/s1600/IMG_2563.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zopSC3aAI/AAAAAAAABm0/OKAmlfVHP1k/s640/IMG_2563.JPG" width="480" /></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zoWW1-PgI/AAAAAAAABmg/ceomxw6gmKA/s1600/IMG_2567.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zoWW1-PgI/AAAAAAAABmg/ceomxw6gmKA/s640/IMG_2567.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5vInXonHRI/AAAAAAAABgw/tU6RJUBG0Ac/s1600/IMG_2576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5vInXonHRI/AAAAAAAABgw/tU6RJUBG0Ac/s640/IMG_2576.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zoI2hpAUI/AAAAAAAABmM/DYVcXjGT19I/s1600/IMG_2575.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zoI2hpAUI/AAAAAAAABmM/DYVcXjGT19I/s640/IMG_2575.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">I know, I know: I have a weird attachment to images of the gospelers. But look how beautiful!!!</span></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5vIF-SNIfI/AAAAAAAABfs/0cirQhK98FA/s1600/IMG_2587.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5vIF-SNIfI/AAAAAAAABfs/0cirQhK98FA/s320/IMG_2587.JPG" /></a></div><div style="font-family: inherit;">The Castelo di Brolio crouches on a stony hillside, closer to Siena than Florence, nestled in the north of the Chianti Classico region. Its fourteenth-century keep is built on top of the only remaining original walls, survivors of the long-running Siena-Florence conflict. An eighteenth-century English garden features Italian chestnuts, tropical palms, and until a year ago, a lone sequoia. The façade of the main building, damaged by bomb shells in the last war, retains its scars as a reminder of man’s destructive capacity, while the modern bottling and shipping operation is a testament to innovation.</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zn_EAf4II/AAAAAAAABmE/VKgQs2vbzOw/s1600/IMG_2624.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zn_EAf4II/AAAAAAAABmE/VKgQs2vbzOw/s640/IMG_2624.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5znsvVEcqI/AAAAAAAABlk/RBbkPkcaNSc/s1600/IMG_2618.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5znsvVEcqI/AAAAAAAABlk/RBbkPkcaNSc/s640/IMG_2618.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5vIP79ihGI/AAAAAAAABf8/Ft3OYysNiV8/s1600/IMG_2634.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="502" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5vIP79ihGI/AAAAAAAABf8/Ft3OYysNiV8/s640/IMG_2634.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5vIUDeeiyI/AAAAAAAABgE/GUX3smmgA7A/s1600/IMG_2581.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5vIUDeeiyI/AAAAAAAABgE/GUX3smmgA7A/s200/IMG_2581.JPG" width="150" /></a></div><div style="font-family: inherit;">While the castle is fascinating, the owner, Baron Bettino Ricàsoli, so-called “Father of Chianti,” was himself a remarkable character. A Renaissance man two centuries too late, he was a naturalist, a master statesman, a peace-maker, an artist, and a chemist. </div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">Perhaps these reasons—their eclectic namesake, the storied region—can explain the three unique wines we tasted at il Castelo di Brolio: a smoky, full-bodied chardonnay; a fantastically approachable chianti; and a juicy Super-Tuscan called Casalferro. </div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">If you have any interest in architecture, in the history of Italian wine (or indeed, in the history of Italy!), a trip to il Castelo di Brolio is just what the doctor ordered. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zn7HtOMpI/AAAAAAAABlw/N7hRPbK9U_0/s1600/IMG_2635.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zn7HtOMpI/AAAAAAAABlw/N7hRPbK9U_0/s640/IMG_2635.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5vIH8wtOjI/AAAAAAAABfw/CgmjmAvX980/s1600/IMG_2589.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5vIH8wtOjI/AAAAAAAABfw/CgmjmAvX980/s640/IMG_2589.JPG" width="480" /></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5vIK1eb-PI/AAAAAAAABf0/QrBgbndRcyc/s1600/IMG_2591.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5vIK1eb-PI/AAAAAAAABf0/QrBgbndRcyc/s640/IMG_2591.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zoLmV8i0I/AAAAAAAABmQ/VBEdcuouEQc/s1600/IMG_2595.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="352" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5zoLmV8i0I/AAAAAAAABmQ/VBEdcuouEQc/s640/IMG_2595.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div>katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-14048758513253989642010-03-13T09:30:00.000-08:002010-03-13T09:31:49.627-08:00In Pursuit of Flamenco<span style="font-family: inherit;">{Article for my Travel Writing Course} : Culture Shock as Over-determination</span><br />
<div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5KRAbpCI/AAAAAAAABck/f5NSvW_skgM/s1600/IMG_2466.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5KRAbpCI/AAAAAAAABck/f5NSvW_skgM/s640/IMG_2466.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: x-small;">un bar de tapas</span></div><br />
"There is nothing like an unfulfilled expectation to ruin your whole night," my friend said, as we walked out of a flamenco club in Seville, Spain. Our trip had been centered around this night: the traditional venue full of crowded, tiny tables, around which we would sit and watch the traditional wrinkle-torn guitarist play for the young, elegant dancer in the traditional, romantic dress.</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5NzKD9YI/AAAAAAAABcs/DDBm4fpDUAs/s1600/IMG_2471.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5NzKD9YI/AAAAAAAABcs/DDBm4fpDUAs/s320/IMG_2471.JPG" width="320" /></a>Of course, the flamenco club did not live up to her vision. How could it? It was a case of Freudian over-determination. Although Lesley and I may have sat at a crowded table, or watched a wrinkled old man twang a guitar, still, the unfulfilled promise of the rest of her expectations ruined the entire experience.</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">When I began the long process of deciding where to study abroad, I wanted to vest myself in an entirely different culture from my own. I was primarily concerned with weather and location, and in fact my familiarity with the native languages of Spain, France, and Germany made them seem not more desirable, but instead rather provincial.</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">"So, why not Norway?" my mother asked. "Grandpa would be so happy."</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5PSQ4vSI/AAAAAAAABcw/JwkwRQBDJl4/s1600/IMG_2472.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5PSQ4vSI/AAAAAAAABcw/JwkwRQBDJl4/s200/IMG_2472.JPG" width="150" /></a>But I dismissed the idea. Too cold, and the Visa process, too complicated.</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">Our brainstorming took months. We exhausted a long list of cities in various countries: Wales, foreign enough but too cold; Buenos Aires, too big and I was set on learning a new language; Paris, the same, and too cold; Beijing, my dad knocked off the list right away, along with South Africa and Istanbul; Greece, too foreign, and a bit too small.</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">"What about Italy?"</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">I was shocked we hadn't arrived at it sooner. Most of the country is south of mainland Europe, so there was the answer to my climate concern. And Italian, while foreign, was familiar enough that I thought I could pick it up quickly. And most of all, there was the romantic magnetism of <i>Italia,</i> the setting of so many poems, novels, movies I had read and seen. Florence was chosen quickly, for its central location, its famous history, and, if I had to be honest, because I was drawn by the promise of late, crazy nights with American girlfriends and dashing Italian men. Italia. Firenze. It seemed to choose itself.</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5Vacl_1I/AAAAAAAABc4/pd1ub86IUBU/s1600/IMG_2478.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5Vacl_1I/AAAAAAAABc4/pd1ub86IUBU/s400/IMG_2478.JPG" width="300" /></a> </div><div style="font-family: inherit;">The first hints of culture shock began quietly, the same way dreams seem to infiltrate my waking life: a fleeting sense of deja vu, abrupt feelings of delight or rancor, all coming or going in an instant. The cobblestone streets I found so charming my first week have turned into deathtraps as I hurry between classes. The old gypsy woman I used to smile at, enchanted by her resistance to modern ways of commerce and identification, has begun to recognize and accost me each time I pass her. The crowds of party-goers I romanticized before my arrival are nothing more than raucous, drunken American students, behaving exactly as we do in the states. And most lamentable of all, the crowds of tourists I used to scoff at, thinking myself far above their cameras, their backpacks, their tins of Pringles and cones of gelato (in February!), are now frequent, stinging reminders that I am a tourist. I will never fit in here, never belong, never pass myself off as an Italian.</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">Where is my Latin lover, who would hold my hand as we made our way through the Uffizi, explaining the details of the Renaissance paintings to me as I feigned ignorance? Where is the old proprietor I would befriend in his enoteca, who would teach me about wine and coffee and perhaps take me his Tuscan villa to sample his new vintage? The woman at the panetteria who would remember my name and my order, and perhaps throw in some bread for free, charmed by my failed attempts at Italian?</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5cvvDvvI/AAAAAAAABdE/l85yZ32WVMM/s1600/IMG_2485.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5cvvDvvI/AAAAAAAABdE/l85yZ32WVMM/s400/IMG_2485.JPG" width="300" /></a>I have only recently begun to trust that these doubts are real, in their own way even tangible, and not mere passing whims brought on by bad weather, too little sleep, or a rude native. Would these doubts be any less persistent if I had gone somewhere a little more familiar, or at least somewhere I spoke the language? I don't think so. In my experience, culture shock lies in the discrepancy between our expectations and our realities. So then, perhaps it is not even culture shock, or at least not the same as the syndrome defined as "culture shock."</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: inherit;">And the cure? The chimera of over-determination can be defeated by simply adjusting my expectations. I can remove from my mind the many impossible and exhausting possibilities (the red polka dot dress, the lacey black tablecloths, the sweet Spanish wine and dark lipstick), and focus rather on a probability (the guitarist's performance). In pursuing that probability, I might come across one or two of the old cliches, and be delighted. And isn't it better to delight in one or two impossibilities, rather than to dwell on unfulfilled expectations?</div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5XwqeyAI/AAAAAAAABc8/lVn2ca9HOqo/s1600/IMG_2480.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5XwqeyAI/AAAAAAAABc8/lVn2ca9HOqo/s640/IMG_2480.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5aR4DMVI/AAAAAAAABdA/6UTr5FHOVhU/s1600/IMG_2481.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5aR4DMVI/AAAAAAAABdA/6UTr5FHOVhU/s640/IMG_2481.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</div>katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-83835052768285693452010-03-13T08:57:00.000-08:002010-03-13T08:57:49.854-08:00Sevilla, Day Two<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5nbQRYpI/AAAAAAAABdY/qULKbabjXXA/s1600/IMG_2489.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5nbQRYpI/AAAAAAAABdY/qULKbabjXXA/s640/IMG_2489.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Food. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5gBWCORI/AAAAAAAABdM/H_9eDcGMRFc/s1600/IMG_2445.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5gBWCORI/AAAAAAAABdM/H_9eDcGMRFc/s640/IMG_2445.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5lh4inSI/AAAAAAAABdU/hOLejqP7IT8/s1600/IMG_2447.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5lh4inSI/AAAAAAAABdU/hOLejqP7IT8/s640/IMG_2447.JPG" width="480" /></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5jH04F-I/AAAAAAAABdQ/MeR0UkpoX-A/s1600/IMG_2446.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5jH04F-I/AAAAAAAABdQ/MeR0UkpoX-A/s640/IMG_2446.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Rain. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5p_CVPGI/AAAAAAAABdc/u4d8YusZ3fQ/s1600/IMG_2448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5p_CVPGI/AAAAAAAABdc/u4d8YusZ3fQ/s640/IMG_2448.JPG" width="478" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><div style="text-align: center;">Shop. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5x7E_nII/AAAAAAAABdw/r7ZTFLry4W4/s1600/IMG_2457.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5x7E_nII/AAAAAAAABdw/r7ZTFLry4W4/s640/IMG_2457.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5z6e7LgI/AAAAAAAABd0/zDFxk-cjA_8/s1600/IMG_2460.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5z6e7LgI/AAAAAAAABd0/zDFxk-cjA_8/s640/IMG_2460.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Repeat! </div>katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-53530137620349279002010-03-13T08:52:00.000-08:002010-03-13T08:52:13.967-08:00The First Night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u463gridI/AAAAAAAABcA/_dsVdJjSVzI/s1600/IMG_2431.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u463gridI/AAAAAAAABcA/_dsVdJjSVzI/s640/IMG_2431.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Yes, the first night lasted until five thirty in the morning, until <i>la madrugada</i>, that magical time of night (or day, depending on how you look at it) when the sun it just peeking over the curve of the planet and people are either turning in or crawling out.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5Cge4WwI/AAAAAAAABcQ/cGAId_og-tY/s1600/IMG_2438.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5Cge4WwI/AAAAAAAABcQ/cGAId_og-tY/s640/IMG_2438.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u4-RxPHEI/AAAAAAAABcI/XL9s91VJ5FQ/s1600/IMG_2435.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u4-RxPHEI/AAAAAAAABcI/XL9s91VJ5FQ/s400/IMG_2435.JPG" width="400" /></a><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5AdX8kUI/AAAAAAAABcM/0og0J5F3sVM/s1600/IMG_2437.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5AdX8kUI/AAAAAAAABcM/0og0J5F3sVM/s400/IMG_2437.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Toro toro toro! (I insisted on this all night, but apparently they don't have bull fights at 2 am. Or in March.)</span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5HuvV9VI/AAAAAAAABcc/3RrEBs-sJUA/s1600/IMG_2442.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5HuvV9VI/AAAAAAAABcc/3RrEBs-sJUA/s640/IMG_2442.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
So really, it could be called the second day, and this<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5Etm3P7I/AAAAAAAABcU/Xh6WrEcnhRM/s1600/IMG_2439.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5Etm3P7I/AAAAAAAABcU/Xh6WrEcnhRM/s640/IMG_2439.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
could be called breakfast.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5FzxzSlI/AAAAAAAABcY/ORMCKNs_Its/s1600/IMG_2441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u5FzxzSlI/AAAAAAAABcY/ORMCKNs_Its/s640/IMG_2441.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
(Yes, those are french fries on Lesley's hamburger.)katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-65490236430108282010-03-13T08:46:00.000-08:002010-03-13T08:46:34.984-08:00Triana BackpackersHome sweet home, for two nights at least.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kQgSEX7mI/AAAAAAAABZ4/Lt8plqmDjIY/s1600/IMG_2429.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kQgSEX7mI/AAAAAAAABZ4/Lt8plqmDjIY/s640/IMG_2429.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
I have to say, this is waaaay classier than I imagined our hostel would be. I patted myself on the back more than a few times when we had finished exploring.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kQeKChohI/AAAAAAAABZs/1g-qJLZd2E0/s1600/IMG_2424.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kQeKChohI/AAAAAAAABZs/1g-qJLZd2E0/s640/IMG_2424.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br />
And I didn't take pictures of the terrace. <i>Hammocks</i>.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kQfbsyBSI/AAAAAAAABZ0/sZT3KEMEIFQ/s1600/IMG_2427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kQfbsyBSI/AAAAAAAABZ0/sZT3KEMEIFQ/s640/IMG_2427.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-26674985496622746902010-03-13T08:41:00.000-08:002010-03-13T08:42:08.852-08:00The First Taste<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Technicolor churches. Sprawling gardens. Fortress-like universities. Questionable maps of Italy. Rivers that are actually blue. Paella. Salad with tuna and apio. I say again, <i>paella</i>. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u-OXr8lEI/AAAAAAAABeY/rq3059wA5no/s1600-h/IMG_2395.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u-OXr8lEI/AAAAAAAABeY/rq3059wA5no/s640/IMG_2395.JPG" width="640" /></a> </div><br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u-O4R5fEI/AAAAAAAABeg/F05SiOUbAWA/s1600-h/IMG_2396.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u-O4R5fEI/AAAAAAAABeg/F05SiOUbAWA/s640/IMG_2396.JPG" width="640" /></a> </div><br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u-PKTQgEI/AAAAAAAABeo/9OGPo3pt61c/s1600-h/IMG_2398.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u-PKTQgEI/AAAAAAAABeo/9OGPo3pt61c/s640/IMG_2398.JPG" width="640" /></a> </div><br />
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5u-PW6I5cI/AAAAAAAABew/nISN32qc5dA/s640/IMG_2400.JPG" width="640" /> </div><div style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kJldHU_RI/AAAAAAAABX8/Jzk_e6uFlKA/s1600/IMG_2418.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kJgQVCz_I/AAAAAAAABXg/siW5dmBH50Q/s1600/IMG_2407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kJgQVCz_I/AAAAAAAABXg/siW5dmBH50Q/s640/IMG_2407.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kJhVkFiYI/AAAAAAAABXk/0AstOVr6w3o/s1600/IMG_2410.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kJhVkFiYI/AAAAAAAABXk/0AstOVr6w3o/s640/IMG_2410.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kJe-84UpI/AAAAAAAABXY/GgTJtkuWkJo/s1600/IMG_2401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kJe-84UpI/AAAAAAAABXY/GgTJtkuWkJo/s640/IMG_2401.JPG" width="640" /><img border="0" height="300" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kJldHU_RI/AAAAAAAABX8/Jzk_e6uFlKA/s400/IMG_2418.JPG" width="400" /><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kJj6EeCCI/AAAAAAAABX0/3sPf5HEydEo/s1600/IMG_2415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kJj6EeCCI/AAAAAAAABX0/3sPf5HEydEo/s400/IMG_2415.JPG" width="400" /></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kJkqLyBGI/AAAAAAAABX4/KqgP9Ed-WmE/s1600/IMG_2416.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kJkqLyBGI/AAAAAAAABX4/KqgP9Ed-WmE/s640/IMG_2416.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kJmCU_vlI/AAAAAAAABYA/dd7SZ0GfvAI/s1600/IMG_2419.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kJmCU_vlI/AAAAAAAABYA/dd7SZ0GfvAI/s640/IMG_2419.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Oh, Sevilla.katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-63008247757010980952010-03-11T08:16:00.000-08:002010-03-11T08:16:03.799-08:00The Odyssey (Sevilla, Day 1)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kSTsiXNqI/AAAAAAAABaY/wxY-IxDvxsk/s1600-h/IMG_2380.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kSTsiXNqI/AAAAAAAABaY/wxY-IxDvxsk/s640/IMG_2380.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kSEacmlFI/AAAAAAAABaI/EhbbvqOQSj4/s1600-h/IMG_2373.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kSEacmlFI/AAAAAAAABaI/EhbbvqOQSj4/s200/IMG_2373.JPG" width="150" /></a>Spending the night at the airport in Rome seemed like a really, really good idea at the time, and in the days leading up to it.<br />
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It still amazes me that three pretty intelligent people made a lucid, conscious, and deliberate decision to sleep on a cold tile floor rather than take a butt-early train from Florenze. Objectively, actually, it sounds plausible: Arrive in Rome around 10 o'clock, take the bus to the airport, sleep on a nice comfy airport bench until our flight is called, and mosey on through security to the international terminal.<br />
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Ha.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kSYmULOsI/AAAAAAAABag/YuMs5fdclUk/s1600-h/IMG_2383.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kSYmULOsI/AAAAAAAABag/YuMs5fdclUk/s640/IMG_2383.JPG" width="480" /></a>On the one hand, I was absolutely exhausted that night and the day after. Despite our best efforts (which included wine, Jack Johnson, and comfy pajamas), not one of us got more than an hour's sleep Thursday night. We arrived in Sevilla and <i>passed out</i>. I, being resilient and relying on seemingly endless reserves of energy, adjusted pretty quickly to the lack of sleep, but my friend Lesley was dead for the rest of the trip.<br />
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In retrospect, though, it was something unique, something I don't think I could do again, but that I'm definitely glad I did. I don't think I'll ever forget Lesley chugging her mezzo-bottle of bad wine and then throwing herself at the ground, or Ben and me sharing my iPod as I complained about the bruises I was getting on my hips--bruises which are <i>still</i> visible.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kSdlVPSkI/AAAAAAAABao/Z0BtJN8xhYg/s1600-h/IMG_2389.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kSdlVPSkI/AAAAAAAABao/Z0BtJN8xhYg/s640/IMG_2389.JPG" width="480" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kSiBegu8I/AAAAAAAABaw/NgeezJ2nRk8/s1600-h/IMG_2390.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kSiBegu8I/AAAAAAAABaw/NgeezJ2nRk8/s640/IMG_2390.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kSmvXHWvI/AAAAAAAABa4/wnefyBgSbqg/s1600-h/IMG_2391.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kSmvXHWvI/AAAAAAAABa4/wnefyBgSbqg/s640/IMG_2391.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Finally here:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kSrjY72qI/AAAAAAAABbA/Jff-uytZ05s/s1600-h/IMG_2394.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kSrjY72qI/AAAAAAAABbA/Jff-uytZ05s/s640/IMG_2394.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I can't exaggerate how excited I got to see <i>Spanish</i> instead of Italian on the signs at the airport!</div>katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-62131678983493214142010-03-11T07:45:00.000-08:002010-03-11T07:45:25.917-08:00La Francesina<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kP9Jtrr8I/AAAAAAAABZY/le03cMxKkA0/s1600-h/IMG_2370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kP9Jtrr8I/AAAAAAAABZY/le03cMxKkA0/s640/IMG_2370.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>My appreciation for <i>trippa</i> in all its wondrous forms continues, this week with a dish called <i>francesina</i>. For four euros, I can enjoy a teeny bottle of wine (about one and half or two glasses' worth), and a bowl full of <i>trippa</i> stewed with tomatoes, mirepoix, herbs, and <i>carciofe</i>, doused with <i>piccante</i> and <i>salsa verde</i> and served along with a large piece of bread to soak it all up.<br />
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From the Mercato Nuovo, the stand near Via Pellicheria.katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-23143906734656786782010-03-11T07:33:00.000-08:002010-03-11T07:41:09.609-08:00La GrossaFinally, Bologna's best nickname: <i>La Grossa</i>. After looking at these pictures, it shouldn't be too hard to guess why...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMFISMo3I/AAAAAAAABYQ/6bBnhKF2ou0/s1600-h/IMG_2322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMFISMo3I/AAAAAAAABYQ/6bBnhKF2ou0/s640/IMG_2322.JPG" width="480" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMLFsO0hI/AAAAAAAABYY/MHMD92IdRWE/s1600-h/IMG_2337.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMLFsO0hI/AAAAAAAABYY/MHMD92IdRWE/s640/IMG_2337.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMQldVhDI/AAAAAAAABYg/PX3AFAO9bGc/s1600-h/IMG_2339.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMQldVhDI/AAAAAAAABYg/PX3AFAO9bGc/s640/IMG_2339.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMXHwJQnI/AAAAAAAABYo/T-VA0rUXfHc/s1600-h/IMG_2340.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMXHwJQnI/AAAAAAAABYo/T-VA0rUXfHc/s640/IMG_2340.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMcCNj1OI/AAAAAAAABYw/ld6DAJmtDfE/s1600-h/IMG_2347.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMcCNj1OI/AAAAAAAABYw/ld6DAJmtDfE/s640/IMG_2347.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMhtqO2UI/AAAAAAAABY4/MbB-oIlfvhs/s1600-h/IMG_2349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMhtqO2UI/AAAAAAAABY4/MbB-oIlfvhs/s640/IMG_2349.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMnpLC6CI/AAAAAAAABZA/L-TcnN_aSEc/s1600-h/IMG_2350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMnpLC6CI/AAAAAAAABZA/L-TcnN_aSEc/s640/IMG_2350.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMto_0XmI/AAAAAAAABZI/13tSOqtgBZM/s1600-h/IMG_2351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMto_0XmI/AAAAAAAABZI/13tSOqtgBZM/s640/IMG_2351.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMy87W0OI/AAAAAAAABZQ/1LBbH8Pjrb8/s1600-h/IMG_2355.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5kMy87W0OI/AAAAAAAABZQ/1LBbH8Pjrb8/s640/IMG_2355.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
And no, unfortunately I did not eat all of this on my own.katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-75226764396922871702010-03-11T06:05:00.000-08:002010-03-11T06:05:28.584-08:00La RossaAnother name for Bologna is <i>La Rossa</i>, the red one, so-called for two reasons: the architecture, and its historical fascist and / or communist leanings, depending on the decade.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TxESTBW-I/AAAAAAAABS4/PkBQKJqi4GU/s1600-h/IMG_2269.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TxESTBW-I/AAAAAAAABS4/PkBQKJqi4GU/s640/IMG_2269.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TxJ7AZUBI/AAAAAAAABTA/rK0gHSbTiJ8/s1600-h/IMG_2271.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TxJ7AZUBI/AAAAAAAABTA/rK0gHSbTiJ8/s640/IMG_2271.JPG" width="480" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TxQJaD0FI/AAAAAAAABTI/TBcRJA9-zVM/s1600-h/IMG_2272.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TxQJaD0FI/AAAAAAAABTI/TBcRJA9-zVM/s640/IMG_2272.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TxW99V1iI/AAAAAAAABTQ/EPxvwxShMQc/s1600-h/IMG_2274.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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Why it's a bad idea to go places on Sundays: EVERYTHING IS CLOSED. Well, everything except the occasional Peruvian pipe flute band. (See below.)<br />
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<img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TxW99V1iI/AAAAAAAABTQ/EPxvwxShMQc/s640/IMG_2274.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TxeXwu2UI/AAAAAAAABTY/vswuwvjJXEQ/s1600-h/IMG_2275.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TxeXwu2UI/AAAAAAAABTY/vswuwvjJXEQ/s640/IMG_2275.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TxlmCmLjI/AAAAAAAABTg/F5HrRNMNFoY/s1600-h/IMG_2279.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TxlmCmLjI/AAAAAAAABTg/F5HrRNMNFoY/s640/IMG_2279.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TxrPBc1bI/AAAAAAAABTo/573sFH0akIo/s1600-h/IMG_2286.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TxrPBc1bI/AAAAAAAABTo/573sFH0akIo/s640/IMG_2286.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5Txyf-s6WI/AAAAAAAABTw/rielY8rp88s/s1600-h/IMG_2289.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5Txyf-s6WI/AAAAAAAABTw/rielY8rp88s/s640/IMG_2289.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5Tx4A7CTjI/AAAAAAAABT4/ua7ELunujbI/s1600-h/IMG_2325.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5Tx4A7CTjI/AAAAAAAABT4/ua7ELunujbI/s640/IMG_2325.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5Tx_tNeocI/AAAAAAAABUA/-sFKVbJRrc8/s1600-h/IMG_2326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5Tx_tNeocI/AAAAAAAABUA/-sFKVbJRrc8/s640/IMG_2326.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TyInVk8CI/AAAAAAAABUI/w5LhBiNjR3g/s1600-h/IMG_2330.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TyInVk8CI/AAAAAAAABUI/w5LhBiNjR3g/s640/IMG_2330.JPG" width="480" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TyQxj-BhI/AAAAAAAABUQ/bZ5j9fWNaLY/s1600-h/IMG_2335.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TyQxj-BhI/AAAAAAAABUQ/bZ5j9fWNaLY/s640/IMG_2335.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
The oldest permanent nativity scene, dating back to the fourteenth century.katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-78523601918551804342010-03-08T04:43:00.000-08:002010-03-08T04:43:21.204-08:00La DottaBologna is known as <i>La Dotta</i>, the educated one, the clever one. Here are pictures from the capitol building there, a little nicer than the California chambers, no?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TvwraBMkI/AAAAAAAABR4/YzGEWiIiq9w/s1600-h/IMG_2306.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TvwraBMkI/AAAAAAAABR4/YzGEWiIiq9w/s640/IMG_2306.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5Tv4QPfQaI/AAAAAAAABSA/Jxx3qREPe5k/s1600-h/IMG_2307.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5Tv4QPfQaI/AAAAAAAABSA/Jxx3qREPe5k/s640/IMG_2307.JPG" width="480" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5Tv_qDoRgI/AAAAAAAABSI/ohGIvw0ZVRM/s1600-h/IMG_2308.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5Tv_qDoRgI/AAAAAAAABSI/ohGIvw0ZVRM/s640/IMG_2308.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TwH9xw57I/AAAAAAAABSQ/gNJzIACmMng/s1600-h/IMG_2309.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TwH9xw57I/AAAAAAAABSQ/gNJzIACmMng/s640/IMG_2309.JPG" width="480" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TwPH9Dy_I/AAAAAAAABSY/ba4MtXGXsRk/s1600-h/IMG_2310.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TwPH9Dy_I/AAAAAAAABSY/ba4MtXGXsRk/s640/IMG_2310.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TwV7l22SI/AAAAAAAABSg/1yKvWzJwCv0/s1600-h/IMG_2312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TwV7l22SI/AAAAAAAABSg/1yKvWzJwCv0/s640/IMG_2312.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TwfOLql6I/AAAAAAAABSo/kCuaRyOnj-M/s1600-h/IMG_2318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TwfOLql6I/AAAAAAAABSo/kCuaRyOnj-M/s640/IMG_2318.JPG" width="480" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TwnKkuapI/AAAAAAAABSw/gmQLcIdeWEY/s1600-h/IMG_2321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S5TwnKkuapI/AAAAAAAABSw/gmQLcIdeWEY/s640/IMG_2321.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-29562064997879523072010-03-04T09:27:00.000-08:002010-03-04T02:04:22.896-08:00Orvieto<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4vgfc3_m2I/AAAAAAAABC4/C4ToTfiLNQo/s1600-h/IMG_2089.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4vgfc3_m2I/AAAAAAAABC4/C4ToTfiLNQo/s640/IMG_2089.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S49-1aWSgQI/AAAAAAAABPo/fABn5gkzW08/s1600-h/IMG_2256.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S49-1aWSgQI/AAAAAAAABPo/fABn5gkzW08/s640/IMG_2256.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S49_AR_rC9I/AAAAAAAABPw/vXjZ6VC5sPs/s1600-h/IMG_2092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S49_AR_rC9I/AAAAAAAABPw/vXjZ6VC5sPs/s200/IMG_2092.JPG" width="150" /></a>Orvieto was a quirky little town--a little more lively than Siena, or maybe it was just because it was such a nice day out, or because we had a better tour guide, or because I was simply in a better mood. I'm sorry I wasn't able to better appreciate Siena. <br />
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We spent the day following around our French tourguide, peeking into pottery stores and bakeries. Lesley and I had our eyes peeled all day for a <i>maceria</i> or an <i>enoteca</i>, so we could scrape together a good lunch. More on that later...<br />
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Our tour guide was too funny. She had trouble pronouncing some words (automaton, stairs) and when I told her that little kids ride scooters around in the United States, she doubled up laughing. I explained that scooters usually refer to unmechanized vehicles in the use, but in Europe they use it for mopeds or motorcycles.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4-BuaZ3GKI/AAAAAAAABRI/7BN5UI4GZC0/s1600-h/IMG_2148.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4-BuaZ3GKI/AAAAAAAABRI/7BN5UI4GZC0/s640/IMG_2148.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Maurizio, the 700 year-old au-to-ma-ton.</div><br />
The thing I loved most in Orvieto was the Duomo. So much detail, so much sculpture, and finally I was able to appreciate it!**<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S49_tBqLliI/AAAAAAAABQI/ffXeEl72ic0/s1600-h/IMG_2119.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S49_tBqLliI/AAAAAAAABQI/ffXeEl72ic0/s640/IMG_2119.JPG" width="480" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S49_8_KfBYI/AAAAAAAABQQ/8PnDibFWviA/s1600-h/IMG_2129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S49_8_KfBYI/AAAAAAAABQQ/8PnDibFWviA/s640/IMG_2129.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br />
I loved most the facade of the building, which featured: a depiction of God's creation of Eve by plucking out one of Adam's ribs;<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4-Bnun5AmI/AAAAAAAABRA/S6uOnaUtleA/s1600-h/IMG_2143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4-Bnun5AmI/AAAAAAAABRA/S6uOnaUtleA/s640/IMG_2143.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
statues representing each of the gospels, Matthew - angel,<br />
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Mark - lion,<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4-A2gZY_LI/AAAAAAAABQo/MP-uQFfCyQU/s1600-h/IMG_2140.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4-A2gZY_LI/AAAAAAAABQo/MP-uQFfCyQU/s640/IMG_2140.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
John - eagle,<br />
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and Luke - oxen (by the way, why is Luke an oxen? I feel like he got the short end of the stick; the others are much more bad ass);<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4-BXH8pcMI/AAAAAAAABQ4/FpKJ9q3wVZw/s1600-h/IMG_2142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4-BXH8pcMI/AAAAAAAABQ4/FpKJ9q3wVZw/s640/IMG_2142.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
and last but not least the incredible detail covering the church, colored stones, engravings, mosaics, architecture. There is something medieval, baroque, gothic, renaissance in the construction of the church. I could look at it forever.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4-B8UewJII/AAAAAAAABRQ/IqRNaagWWKA/s1600-h/IMG_2151.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4-B8UewJII/AAAAAAAABRQ/IqRNaagWWKA/s640/IMG_2151.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4-CKofHZqI/AAAAAAAABRY/Kz15JD2Ipys/s1600-h/IMG_2152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4-CKofHZqI/AAAAAAAABRY/Kz15JD2Ipys/s640/IMG_2152.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S49_OlER-5I/AAAAAAAABP4/q14xGmXUF8E/s1600-h/IMG_2103.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S49_OlER-5I/AAAAAAAABP4/q14xGmXUF8E/s320/IMG_2103.JPG" /></a></div>Orvieto is also faous for having a salted Easter bread, a treat, since Tuscan and Umbrian bread is famously unsalted. I was unable to find some Easter bread, so here is a picture of another Tuscan/Umbrian specialty: wild boar!<br />
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Orvieto is also famous for the white wines grown in the region. Lesley, Bruno and I shared a bottle of Orvieto Classico, a bright white wine with a hint of a sparkle. An equally famous wine goes by the name, "Est! Est!! Est!!!" It refers to a legend surrounding a bishop's visit to the town. Supposedly, he sent his servant ahead to scope out the wine at the hotel where he was to stay that night. If the wine was good, the valet was to write, "EST" ("it is" in Latin) in chalk over the door. If the accommodations were unsuitable, he would find somewhere to stay.<br />
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To make a long story short, the words "Est! Est!! Est!!!" are inscribed on the bishop's grave, a testament to his having drunk himself to death off this now famous Umbrian wine.<br />
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Lesley, Bruno and I ended up sharing a bottle of Orvieto Classico, a white wine that was as charming as the town it comes from. All in all, it was a wonderful day.<br />
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Some boys playing a game of <i>calcio</i> or volleyball... It was a free-for-all, really, arms and legs flying everywhere. Lesley and I really, really enjoyed watching them during lunch, and then when we found out they were thirteen (not sixteen or even fifteen as we had guessed), well, let's just say we didn't feel <i>good</i> about our voyeurism.<br />
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**I just want to point out that this is the first time I have used "Art" as a tag on a post; that is what a huge impression the Duomo left on me!katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-49894181570271440112010-03-03T03:00:00.000-08:002010-03-03T03:00:53.573-08:00100th post - MemoryIt's hard to believe I've written a hundred posts since I started writing this, almost a year ago. I guess that's not actually so impressive; more fascinating is how the blog has changed in nature. It started as a "cooking blog," almost a tutorial. Looking back at my older posts is like looking back at an old diary. I feel nostalgic, embarrassed, and always, an urge to correct what I wrote, to change my opinion, to alter the (now) limited perspective I had at one time.<br />
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It's funny how remembering can feel like looking back at time through the wrong end of a telescope. Everything is reduced to images, spurts of scent, color, sound; but in going through that long metal tube, emotions disappear, or maybe they are stretched so thin they become imperceptible. But reading something, real words I'd written down, intentionally, thoughtfully, has the opposite effect: feelings like the ones you had then fill you up, overcome you.<br />
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In my ISA program here, we move around Italy on large charter <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/jhuKMO/TravellingInStyle?feat=directlink">buses</a>, stopping only at our destinations (the tiny hill towns, Bologna, Rome), the occasional gas station and food pavilion, a scenic vista on our way back to Florence. I worry that most of my memories will be of the views through the plastic windows, pages turning in my books, the backs of people's heads.<br />
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But then I remember I've been writing this, writing in my journal, and I'm reassured.katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-77603669103467460162010-03-02T05:11:00.000-08:002010-03-02T05:13:32.396-08:00Il VerificadorI rode the bus illegally yesterday morning on my way to Santa Maria Novella. <em>La fiducia</em>. It was the first day of March, and my <em>abbonamento</em> was therefore expired. In my defense, I was on the bus in order to buy my new bus pass!<br />
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I felt like a badass, like a rebel (and then like a poser, because it is probably the biggest rebellion I'll stage here), but mostly I felt like an Italian. Fight the system, right?<br />
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Well, that evening on my way home, new <em>abbonamento</em> in hand and freshly stamped, I saw my first <em>verificador</em>. I was legal! I was legitimate! I was (hopelessly) American. On that ride, the bus-police, as I call them, caught not one, not two, but FIVE would-be free-loaders. <br />
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They sucked it up and paid their fine, their faith in the validity of their honor system not shaken but rather confirmed by the fact that they had been caught. Because if there was no chance of being caught, no threat of punishment, there would therefore be no need to trust in that time they would NOT be caught--faith in that one time, which stretches into a hundred times, until <em>la loro</em> <em>fiducia</em> comes to rest in the act of being caught rather than the act of getting away with something.<br />
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Oh Italia... I know something in me is changing when all of this is actually making sense.katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-24247576324063529872010-03-02T05:04:00.000-08:002010-03-02T05:15:25.727-08:00Underground City of OrvietoSo, I'm trying something new with the photo situation. Because my internet situation is so precarious, and uploading pictures takes up the majority of my time and bandwidth, I am creating a Picasa album (with captions) to go along with every post I write. Of course, if something truly astonishing strikes me and I happen to snap a photo of it, I will still post it on here with accompanying commentary. But from now on--as soon as I finish inserting photos in the Orvieto post--I will be including links to my public Google Album.<br />
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<a href="http://picasaweb.google.it/jhuKMO/UndergroundCityOfOrvieto?feat=directlink">Click here to see photos of Orvieto!</a><br />
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The underground city, compared to how awesome the rest of Orvieto was, turned out to be a total letdown. I mean, it really sucked. It was just like every native American cave you've gone into, with coarse-hewn walls, old quarries, garbage pits and wells, broken pottery and pigeon coops. Because that's basically what the Etruscans are: an ancient native population (although native to Tuscany, not Umbria) that was marginalized, disenfranchised, all but wiped out by the new invading culture--in this case, the Romans. To a Californian, or to any American, the story is all too familiar, although a little more interesting because we don't know everything about the mysterious Etruscans, who supposedly had a written language, etc. etc. <br />
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I am going to sound really jaded, but compared to the Mayans, honestly, the Etruscans are a little--ok, a lot--booooring.<br />
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AND WE DIDN'T EVEN SEE ST. PETER'S WELL.<br />
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This underground city was the only thing that marred my perfect day in Orvieto. Thanks a lot, you jerk of an underground city.katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-60800314671446727682010-03-01T05:04:00.000-08:002010-03-02T05:15:41.909-08:00Assisi<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u2oonOEtI/AAAAAAAABBw/cWchz-WAglk/s1600-h/IMG_2073.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u2oonOEtI/AAAAAAAABBw/cWchz-WAglk/s320/IMG_2073.JPG" /></a></div>Pax et bonum!<br />
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Assisi was not only the most beautiful hilltown I've seen, but obviously the most meaningful. Seeing the church where St. Francis was chained after denying his father's business, his tomb, the three churches (built one on top of another) dedicated to him, and even the Church of St. Clare with its rose and white marble--it amounted to the best trip I've taken, except maybe for Elba, despite the bad weather and, oh yeah, the fact that outside Clare's church I fell and busted my hips and elbow and very nearly smashed my camera.<br />
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But I didn't smash my camera, or my face, and my arm feels (four days later) almost like brand new! My camera died halfway through the day, though.<br />
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Like I said, despite the foibles, it was a magical day. I like to think Clare and Francesco were palying little jokes on me, telling me to pay more attention to the present moment and place. And it's true, that without my camera and with the constant pain in my arm, I really saw Assisi through <i>my</i> eyes; not the eyes of my blog or my camera or my writer's mind, but with Katie's eyes, which still stung in embarrassment from the fall outside the church.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u20ndAlPI/AAAAAAAABB4/vBeyPl5YxPE/s1600-h/IMG_2074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u20ndAlPI/AAAAAAAABB4/vBeyPl5YxPE/s640/IMG_2074.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u3E4TrLyI/AAAAAAAABCA/aKvMaPhUmYo/s1600-h/IMG_2076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u3E4TrLyI/AAAAAAAABCA/aKvMaPhUmYo/s640/IMG_2076.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u3Q769ndI/AAAAAAAABCI/ONK8rEwowiU/s1600-h/IMG_2079.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u3Q769ndI/AAAAAAAABCI/ONK8rEwowiU/s640/IMG_2079.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u3Z0wwy8I/AAAAAAAABCQ/KfxccEf6Nlc/s1600-h/IMG_2080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u3Z0wwy8I/AAAAAAAABCQ/KfxccEf6Nlc/s640/IMG_2080.JPG" width="480" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u3nIYFO3I/AAAAAAAABCY/ah1gJhM_0aw/s1600-h/IMG_2082.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u3nIYFO3I/AAAAAAAABCY/ah1gJhM_0aw/s640/IMG_2082.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br />
Yeah, this is where I ate it. It <i>hurt</i>, too. I didn't get up for at least two minutes.<br />
<br />
"No, I just want to stay down for a little bit." <br />
<br />
I was actually worried I had broken my arm. <br />
<br />
"Nope, not ready yet..."<br />
<br />
But eventually I did get up, and saw Assisi, and it was worth it in the end.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u32Sne-tI/AAAAAAAABCg/Lp68l0M_MJk/s1600-h/IMG_2083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u32Sne-tI/AAAAAAAABCg/Lp68l0M_MJk/s640/IMG_2083.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u3-kd_O2I/AAAAAAAABCo/Oy14iYvwQpU/s1600-h/IMG_2084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u3-kd_O2I/AAAAAAAABCo/Oy14iYvwQpU/s640/IMG_2084.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u4Q9d8RJI/AAAAAAAABCw/0tNou00E-x8/s1600-h/IMG_2085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4u4Q9d8RJI/AAAAAAAABCw/0tNou00E-x8/s640/IMG_2085.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-13697830557920559882010-03-01T04:33:00.000-08:002010-03-01T04:33:31.155-08:00Cascine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uuTTXEs2I/AAAAAAAABAA/PC03SOShfkI/s1600-h/IMG_2032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uuTTXEs2I/AAAAAAAABAA/PC03SOShfkI/s640/IMG_2032.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
At Cascine market (Tuesdays and, during lent, Sundays), you can buy anything and everything. It is a large park along the Arno, to the east on the north side of the river, past the American Embassy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uu0pnarOI/AAAAAAAABAQ/83Q_5R30-6k/s1600-h/IMG_2036.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uu0pnarOI/AAAAAAAABAQ/83Q_5R30-6k/s640/IMG_2036.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uvADSBBWI/AAAAAAAABAY/wF1SZQvAAto/s1600-h/IMG_2037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uvADSBBWI/AAAAAAAABAY/wF1SZQvAAto/s640/IMG_2037.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uuhCNZCrI/AAAAAAAABAI/dzWvoVYGk3w/s1600-h/IMG_2034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uuhCNZCrI/AAAAAAAABAI/dzWvoVYGk3w/s320/IMG_2034.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uvWjWt5KI/AAAAAAAABAg/vc5D3YRTfhE/s1600-h/IMG_2038.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uvWjWt5KI/AAAAAAAABAg/vc5D3YRTfhE/s640/IMG_2038.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uvqfoEfDI/AAAAAAAABAo/QukT5E5z-aQ/s1600-h/IMG_2039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uvqfoEfDI/AAAAAAAABAo/QukT5E5z-aQ/s640/IMG_2039.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uv5S0xyfI/AAAAAAAABAw/fdHA-FI_ays/s1600-h/IMG_2053.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uv5S0xyfI/AAAAAAAABAw/fdHA-FI_ays/s640/IMG_2053.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uwHqrqi_I/AAAAAAAABA4/DNgDwcHNyoQ/s1600-h/IMG_2054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uwHqrqi_I/AAAAAAAABA4/DNgDwcHNyoQ/s640/IMG_2054.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uwZKK4T7I/AAAAAAAABBA/FBuy6GpD2Ow/s1600-h/IMG_2055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uwZKK4T7I/AAAAAAAABBA/FBuy6GpD2Ow/s640/IMG_2055.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uwpNPA5uI/AAAAAAAABBI/UUjUL57512A/s1600-h/IMG_2056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uwpNPA5uI/AAAAAAAABBI/UUjUL57512A/s640/IMG_2056.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uxkcNP8pI/AAAAAAAABBo/ff2YSnaPI4g/s1600-h/IMG_2059.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uxkcNP8pI/AAAAAAAABBo/ff2YSnaPI4g/s640/IMG_2059.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uxVMl_1II/AAAAAAAABBg/Hf0hwENvVAE/s1600-h/IMG_2062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uxVMl_1II/AAAAAAAABBg/Hf0hwENvVAE/s640/IMG_2062.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uxGBUzc5I/AAAAAAAABBY/2LqphMIVkxQ/s1600-h/IMG_2058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uxGBUzc5I/AAAAAAAABBY/2LqphMIVkxQ/s640/IMG_2058.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-19701881466548024552010-03-01T04:07:00.000-08:002010-03-01T04:07:27.618-08:00Lampredotto<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4usk6JuvQI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/sE_R4V4wD8g/s1600-h/IMG_2040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4usk6JuvQI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/sE_R4V4wD8g/s640/IMG_2040.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
At the Cascine market, there is a very special lampredotto stand. It doesn't look much different than the others. It is constructed of the same metal carriage, the same plastic signs, the same simmering pots and displays of schiaccata and salume. But it if you seek it out, if you manage to pick it out of the crowd of stands and bustling shoppers, you will be rewarded by the most delicious tripa (boiled stomach) sandwich <i>in your life</i>.<br />
<br />
You can find me there, every Tuesday at eleven fifteen. Every. Single. Tuesday.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4usx-V0xCI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/bP8k3L0ms2w/s1600-h/IMG_2041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4usx-V0xCI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/bP8k3L0ms2w/s640/IMG_2041.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Cut it</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4us-LCWqzI/AAAAAAAAA_g/xii3qhdJ_qs/s1600-h/IMG_2042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4us-LCWqzI/AAAAAAAAA_g/xii3qhdJ_qs/s640/IMG_2042.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Pile it</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4utLNlY5cI/AAAAAAAAA_o/7Q60KwCOM0E/s1600-h/IMG_2047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4utLNlY5cI/AAAAAAAAA_o/7Q60KwCOM0E/s640/IMG_2047.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Salt it and sauce it (piccante and verde)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4utWFmmqzI/AAAAAAAAA_w/cPxdA1id5TI/s1600-h/IMG_2048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4utWFmmqzI/AAAAAAAAA_w/cPxdA1id5TI/s640/IMG_2048.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Dunk it</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uthAMgUpI/AAAAAAAAA_4/PliHkSg3OfU/s1600-h/IMG_2050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uthAMgUpI/AAAAAAAAA_4/PliHkSg3OfU/s640/IMG_2050.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
Devour it</div>katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-84807353798222623762010-03-01T03:42:00.000-08:002010-03-01T03:42:28.460-08:00Il Fiume Arno<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uhkZ7LEMI/AAAAAAAAA-g/DgRpgmOP8qI/s1600-h/IMG_1189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uhkZ7LEMI/AAAAAAAAA-g/DgRpgmOP8qI/s640/IMG_1189.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uhtzuf2RI/AAAAAAAAA-o/QtCW-sRSlNA/s1600-h/IMG_2026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uhtzuf2RI/AAAAAAAAA-o/QtCW-sRSlNA/s640/IMG_2026.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uh3Frqa3I/AAAAAAAAA-w/6Z6vO7BGG-4/s1600-h/IMG_2027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uh3Frqa3I/AAAAAAAAA-w/6Z6vO7BGG-4/s640/IMG_2027.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uiGghMQBI/AAAAAAAAA-4/17NvlTuQC9M/s1600-h/IMG_2029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uiGghMQBI/AAAAAAAAA-4/17NvlTuQC9M/s640/IMG_2029.JPG" width="640" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Statue outside the American Embassy... shh, I'm not supposed to have pictures of it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uiZimooFI/AAAAAAAAA_A/r-VZpASzcK4/s1600-h/IMG_2060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uiZimooFI/AAAAAAAAA_A/r-VZpASzcK4/s640/IMG_2060.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uiqvob0qI/AAAAAAAAA_I/fmixELgXxJw/s1600-h/IMG_2061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uiqvob0qI/AAAAAAAAA_I/fmixELgXxJw/s640/IMG_2061.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6993085003729155151.post-55143970780550300102010-03-01T03:05:00.000-08:002010-03-01T03:07:18.948-08:00Apicius, Week Four<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4udhV9ntzI/AAAAAAAAA9o/p67Uhy1A7Xk/s1600-h/IMG_2003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4udhV9ntzI/AAAAAAAAA9o/p67Uhy1A7Xk/s640/IMG_2003.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4udRKMO_SI/AAAAAAAAA9g/7_15IMIDBUo/s1600-h/IMG_2002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4udRKMO_SI/AAAAAAAAA9g/7_15IMIDBUo/s640/IMG_2002.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4udyF7JRXI/AAAAAAAAA9w/gr_5Ne0jOx0/s1600-h/IMG_2005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4udyF7JRXI/AAAAAAAAA9w/gr_5Ne0jOx0/s320/IMG_2005.JPG" /></a></div>Umbria was an appropriate choice for this week, since I would be visiting both Assisi and Orvieto that week, and Tiffany had seen them the previous weekend. Our menu for the day:<br />
<br />
Minestrone with Endives (Minestra alla indivia)<br />
Lamb Leg with Eggs and Cheese (Agnello con ouva e caccio)<br />
and for dessert...little fried candy balls. (I'll update when I have my recipes in front of me, oops.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uer6_VyXI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/btV84MjmRkU/s1600-h/IMG_2025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uer6_VyXI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/btV84MjmRkU/s400/IMG_2025.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>This week's recipes were fairlysimple, delicious, and healthy, a welcome treat after a couple of truly indulgent weeks. (See: Napoli and Trentino.) The soup was hearty but light, tinged with the delicious tanginess of endives and balanced by chewy pasta and silky potatoes. And the lamb with eggs, while strange at first, was rich and gamey; I mean, it was basically just scrambled eggs with roasted meat. It melted smoothly on my tongue without the sickening sensation of fat gliding down my throat. <br />
<br />
There were follies, of course. First the eggs were all frozen. That's right: frozen. At first we thought perhaps it was their location in the fridge, but after sampling four eggs from every part of the fridge, we realized that the temperature-regulation had totally failed. We managed to "borrow" some from the larger class next door, but not without some serious bargaining--they got our clean grater.<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4ud9SmApOI/AAAAAAAAA94/f9IX4rmxD7U/s1600-h/IMG_2013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4ud9SmApOI/AAAAAAAAA94/f9IX4rmxD7U/s320/IMG_2013.JPG" /></a><br />
And then the onions... Tiffany had the task of washing the vegetables and went to great pains scrubbing each speck of dirt off the endives, the potatoes, and finally, the onions. Her face, when Vittoria asked her what she was doing with the onions, was priceless: a mixture of supplicance, indignation, and most of all a desire to do absolutely everything perfectly--and then we all burst out laughing. It was so typical of the two of us to bend over backwards to do everything perfectly, only to hear Vittoria whistling behind us, off in her own world, saying, "Basta, basta, so small!"<br />
<br />
The dessert was very similar to a croquembouche, made with fried choux-paste balls and honey caramel. Except in Italy, per usual, we go a little bit over the top and coat--not dip--entire pastry balls in a mixture of caramel, almonds, candied fruit, and lemon peel. Sooo much decadence--sugar, sugar everywhere, and not a bite to eat. Ok, I had one bite. <i>For taste</i>.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4ueWK9EzuI/AAAAAAAAA-I/OKsrPZAKN3Q/s1600-h/IMG_2021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4ueWK9EzuI/AAAAAAAAA-I/OKsrPZAKN3Q/s640/IMG_2021.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4ueMecbG0I/AAAAAAAAA-A/A4LmlDu1blw/s1600-h/IMG_2017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4ueMecbG0I/AAAAAAAAA-A/A4LmlDu1blw/s640/IMG_2017.JPG" width="640" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uee62llhI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/B362Y2o5NI4/s1600-h/IMG_2024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JFe7mEFsm3A/S4uee62llhI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/B362Y2o5NI4/s640/IMG_2024.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>katie mariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16078788260011237951noreply@blogger.com0