I’m not afraid to admit that in all 50 years of Bond, James Bond, this was my first 007 experience. It was…meh…I’d probably give it a B- mainly because it gave me nightmares. {For those of you who have seen it, I’m referring to the part where he takes that thing out of his mouth that’s holding his face together…creeeeep to the ee. And also the ice pond underwater scene. I always feel like I have to hold my breath when the scene is underwater and I get tense and panicky.} After a nearly sleepless night of tossing and turning, I woke up this morning with an awful sore throat that won’t go away.
Must be multilingual.
We stayed up late last night watching Skyfall and sipping prosecco.
At least my cough drop wrapper is on my side. Grazie, Halls, grazie.
Determined to not let my early cold symptoms stop me, I dug out the Airborne before we drove to a village nearby for the weekly supermercato, just to see what it was all about. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the weather was much to lovely to stay inside.
There were tons of local vendors selling everything from purses to underwear to shoes to fresh fish (very fresh, I should say) to vegetables. It seemed that to us it was more for grandmas to parade around their grandchildren and catch up on the local gossip. But then, I went there for cheese, fruit, and people watching so who am I to judge?
Our purchases included a scarf for yours truly, biscotti, fresh asiago and pepperjack formaggio, and fresh strawberries. I had my eye on an orange tree, but the Viper Pilot reminded me that the sun doesn’t shine in our neck of the woods and it probably wouldn’t do so well. Whomp, whomp…{sad trombone}.
One thing I adore about this country is the easy access to a cappuccino and croissant at any given time. There are cafes on every corner. We stopped to enjoy croissant (marmalade for the Viper Pilot and chocolate, obviously, for me) and cappuccinos, which were delicious as always.
On our way home we stopped at the grocery store to pick up a few things: fresh baguette, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, green and kalamata olives, pasta sauce, and bread sticks. You know how the cereal aisles are in the states? Miles long? That’s how the pasta aisle is in Italy, and Germany, now that I think about it. This is just the Barilla section of the pasta aisle (sorry for the smudgy cell phone picture). As for the cereal, there are maybe 10 or so options…
We grazed on our Italian delights when we got home and I conked out for a few hours in hopes to kick this awful cold before it gets any worse. The Viper Pilot left for work and I went out on a girls’ date with a friend. We were referred to a restaurant up on the side of the mountain with a spectacular view.
This was the best I could do with the wind, the lighting, and lack of tripod. Steady as she goes…
Not only was the view and company great, but the food…delizioso! We started off sharing a cheese sampler. We tasted goat, sheep, cow, and a cheese of the region along with fresh bread, marmalade and a honey nut jelly. I think I’ve finally met my goat cheese soul mate. I didn’t know there was another person in this world who loved the stuff as much as me. Followed by a prociutto and ricotta pizza. Followed by tiramisu and cappuccinos. Needless to say, I’m in a food coma. I’m hoping I feel better tomorrow so I can run again…Lord knows I need to!
The server knew as much English as we knew Italian but we got by. Earlier at the market, I spoke to the vendor in German out of habit and then stuttered over my words in English only to find out he didn’t really speak English. Italian and Spanish are similar enough that we were able to communicate…quanto = cuánto = vie viel = how much. I’m realizing just how much German I actually know, now that I am submerged into a country with a completely different language. You have no idea how tough it is to switch from ja to si. Problems of life in Europe, I tell ya… 😉
Enjoy your Thursday, readers! I’ll see you soon!
CIAO!
Alison Donlon says
Holy pasta paradise! Mmmmm…..