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Sbrisolona – The Yummy Traditional Crumbly Italian Almond Tart

Sbrisolona
Sbrisolona

Before we officially moved to Italy, my husband brought a Sbrisolona back with him on one of his commuter trips. I instantly fell in love with it and all its almondy deliciousness.

After arriving in Italy, I took a cooking class with some friends. I was delighted to see Sbrisolona on the menu and even happier to learn how simple it is to make. Sbrisolona is perfect in the morning with an espresso or cappuccino, but also a lovely end to your meal at night with some sweet dessert wine.

The History
Created around the 16th century in the Northern Italian countryside, near Mantua, Sbrisolona was a popular dessert among poor families. In order to save money, they would prepare the tart by mixing cornmeal, hazelnuts and lard.

Although made with inexpensive ingredients, Sbrisolona began to appear on the tables of the noble families of Mantua, including the Gonzaga family.

In the noble households, the recipe was enriched with more expensive ingredients using sugar, spices and almonds, without moving too far away from the original characteristics of the dessert.

According to tradition, this hard, yet crumbly, dessert should be broken into pieces and eaten with one’s hands.

The Recipe
Preparation – 10 minutes

Cooking – 20 – 25 minutes depending on your oven

Ingredients

  • 1 ½ lb all-purpose flour
  • 1 ¼ lb butter
  • 1 lb granulated sugar
  • 4 oz egg yolks
  • ½ oz baking powder
  • lemon zest, grated
  • 1 ¾ oz almonds
  • ⅞ lb cornmeal

Method

  • Blend all ingredients together on a table or work-surface.
  • Mix all the ingredients together to obtain a pastry dough.
  • Crumble the dough into a greased pie pan.  Do not press the dough together, let it remain crumbled.  The knack lies in preparing all the ingredients by crumbling them. Do not let the mass become homogeneous.

Optional – Arrange almonds on top of the crumbled mix.

Bake in a preheated oven at 360°F for 20 -25 minutes depending on your oven.

This yummy dessert can be served at brunch, for dessert, at bookclub or at a work function. It is great with coffee or dessert wine. Versatile, light and full of flavor, it will not disappoint.

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Prosciutto With Black Truffles and Truffle Mustard Dressing

This appetizer is so simple and so full of flavor you may end up serving it at every party you have from here on out!

The Recipe

Ingredients
4 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
3 tbsp apple cider vinegar
1 tsp truffle mustard or dijon mustard
6 thin slices fresh black truffle, finely chopped
Salt and pepper
8 small slices ciabatta
1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil (for brushing)
4 slices prosciutto
Small salad leaves, your choice
8 thin slices of fresh black truffle

Method
Make dressing first by mixing 4 tbsp olive oil, cider vinegar, mustard and finely chopped truffl e. Season with salt and mix well. Preheat oven to 160C. Brush ciabatta bread pieces with 1 tbsp of olive oil and toast lightly in oven for 8-10 minutes.

Meanwhile, cut each prosciutto slice in half to obtain eight pieces. Once toasted, remove ciabatta pieces and, while still hot, place a piece of prosciutto on each and nestle on serving plate with small salad leaves. Drizzle with truffle dressing and finish with a truffle slice on each crostini. Add a couple of turns of pepper over the lot and serve.

Thank you to http://www.goodfood.au for the recipe.

Americans abroad · European travel · ex-pat life · Italy · Parma Italy

Your Carriage Awaits You

Photo by http://www.trendhunter.com

So, my husband accepted the job in Italy. We were moving and we needed a house. I have heard that moving is one of the most stressful things one can do. Add to it the challenges of an international move, and stress doesn’t adequately describe the feeling.

The company set up a trip for us to go house hunting in Parma. We were put up in a very nice hotel right in the center of town. We walked the narrow, cobblestoned, beautiful streets and explored our new city. The buildings were architecturally beautiful. Many had interior courtyards, carved edifices and delicate detail. Parma was gorgeous and romantic and everything that I had hoped for. I was excited.

House hunting in a foreign land is challenging. There is the language barrier and cultural expectations that must be tempered. And there is the fact that most American houses are larger than what Europeans are used to living in. Space was an issue. I had reduced our belongings by 1/3, but we still had more stuff than the average Italian family. I meticulously filled out the forms telling the relocation expert what we were looking for. Our relocation expert, Ignazio, arrived in a fancy big car to drive us around and look at houses. My excitement grew. We were driving around Parma and the buildings were just gorgeous. The countryside was stunning.
In my excitement, I asked questions, I commented on how lovely the town and the surrounding villages were. I tried to engage Ignazio. Yet, every time I made a comment, Ignazio ignored me, and when I asked a direct question, Ignazio looked at my husband and answered the question. I seemed to be invisible, although, he clearly heard me as he was answering what I had just asked?? There is a saying the USA, that a happy wife equals a happy life. Clearly, this was not an idiom in Italy, or at least not with this guy. The thing is, my husband is happy wherever. His housing needs are much simpler than mine. I wanted to find a place that would not only fit all of our stuff, but also, one that would make the kids comfortable and happy. When I walk into a space, I can envision where every piece of furniture will go and I can quickly assess if the space is big enough. Machismo Ignazio didn’t seem to realize that I was the one that he needed to please. The first few apartments and houses that he showed us were not even the right number of bedrooms. What he called a bedroom would not fit anything more than a twin bed. Where would wardrobes go?? My excitement was waning. My excitement was transitioning to worry and frustration with Ignazio. Surely, there had to be bigger spaces. It felt like there was a puzzle piece missing. His car was bigger than some of the places he showed us (ok, that may be hyperbole, but you get the idea).

After a few days of house hunting, I was near hysteria. We were running out of time and there did not seem to be anything in Parma that fit our family. Plus, Ignazio was still ignoring me and my feedback, thus, we were not making any progress. A friend in the USA hooked me up with a producer of a popular international house hunting show. They wanted us on the show. I saw angels and heard harps playing. Salvation was on the way. Uh . . . no. Spoiler alert, if you are a fan of these type of reality shows, you may not want to keep reading as I am about to burst your bubble. Pre-production called me and explained that they do not actually help you find an apartment. The show features families who have already found a place to live. They move the family completely out of their apartment, film it empty, film the family looking at a bunch of other apartments that no one really intends to rent, move them back into their apartment and film the result. “Why would anyone do that?” I asked. That process did not seem like it was going to help my stress levels. We declined the show appearance. One more trip in the big fancy car did not help either. I was no longer enjoying my first visit to Parma and I was on the verge of causing a scene at the relocation offices.

One evening, after yet another stressful and unsuccessful day of house hunting, we decided to go out for a walk and find a restaurant that the hotel had recommended. Armed with a map and American confidence, we set out. While the narrow, cobblestone streets are charming, they are also quite confusing. We got lost and the streets were empty. This was surprising for a Saturday evening. We would later figure out that we were far too early, but I digress. We went into a few shops and asked if they spoke English. No. We gave them the name of the restaurant and the map and pointed. Nope, they couldn’t help us.

So there we were. Standing in the street, tired, frustrated, running out of time to find a place to live, lost and hungry. Anyone familiar with the old Jack Lemon movie The Out of Towners? We were that couple.

Photo by The Out of Towners at IMDB.com

As we stood there staring at the map, tears of emotional exhaustion in my eyes, a garbage truck the size of a golf cart pulled up. A man got out and approached us. He spoke no English. He looked at our map. We showed him the name of the restaurant. He pointed in a few different directions. We were still confused. He waved his hand. We stood there with blank stares. He waved his hand again and added a head nod toward the garbage truck. “I think he wants us to go with him.” I said. “Should we? We don’t know this guy. He could drive us somewhere and murder us after stealing our wallets and jewelry. We have 2 children at home. We cannot get murdered in Italy!” We were armed with American confidence AND American fear culture, but again, I digress.

I still do not fully understand why, perhaps our sheer physical and emotional exhaustion took over, but, we decided to get in the garbage truck. The gentleman drove us around for a few minutes, picking up garbage bags that had been left on the streets. Then he delivered us to the front door of the restaurant. We thanked him effusively. He smiled and said “Niente. Buon appetito.”

Then something wonderful happened. The stress dissipated and my husband and I started laughing. In the USA, a garbage truck would NEVER offer to drive you anywhere – liability and union rules. Nor would we ever agree to get in a garbage truck with a perfect stranger. Too scary. But here in our new country, the garbage truck was a sign. Here, in our new country, we were going to have to learn to adapt. We were going to have to accept that the best apartment may not be the size of the house we left behind.  We were going to have to embrace the changes, the stress, the new rules, and, the adventure of it all. We were going to have to learn to recognize that sometimes the most beautiful carriage is not a big fancy car, but a golf cart sized garbage truck.

Photo by Piaggio_Ape50_clean_machine
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La Bella Figura

“The Creator made Italy from designs by Michaelangelo.”
Mark Twain

lbf1

This is the quintessential Italian woman. Elegant, stylish, understated and fare la bella figura.

Fare la bella figura” literally means “to make a beautiful figure.” The phrase refers to the Italian ideal of looking your best at all times. For this casual Californian this ideal may be the biggest challenge that I’ve faced living in Italy.

Northern Italy is the home of Milano, the seat of fashion houses and world famous designers. People are stylish here.  Then, among Italians, Parma is known to be a very fashion conscious community.

The first week of school, I was jet lagged and coming down off of an emotional roller coaster of a year.  I was unaccustomed to humidity and was sopping wet every time I stepped outside.  Because of the humidity I was also carrying around water, which I stated earlier is a big no-no.  So there I am the first day of school in Italy, bedraggled, exhausted and definitely not stylish. I hardly felt the need to dress up for the ten minute walk to school when I was just going home to unpack dirty, dusty boxes.  I was feeling good about myself because I had put on some makeup and my fancy Taryn Rose flip flops.

I arrived at school, looked at all the Italian mothers and thought “uh oh.”  Not only were they thin and beautiful, they all looked very stylish in an understated, elegant way. Northern Italian women don’t wear a lot of makeup. They don simple, but high quality and finely tailored clothes. They wear dresses, skirts and lots and lots of stilettos. And boots – year round. And scarves – year round.  I stood on the sidewalk, hair in a ponytail in casual, (almost exercise) clothes. Needless to say, I stood out like a sore thumb.

I had a conversation with my friend Diana who is English about the Italian women’s seemingly effortless style. Diana noted that if you went to the supermarket in England dressed like an Italian woman does, everyone would think, “what is she trying to prove?”  I thought about how people would react if you showed up at Safeway in stilettos, a dress, a scarf – Diana was right.  Americans too would think you were putting on airs. The only reason you would wear high heels to the supermarket in America was if you were on your way to or from work or an event. In Italy, however, it a common occurrence.

From my American (and casual Californian) perspective, it seems like a lot of work to get dressed up just to run to the supermarket, go to the gym or walk the kids to school. But dress up they do. I was no longer in California and if I didn’t want to stand out I was going to have to make some changes. Wearing exercise clothes on the street is just not done here and flip flops (my shoe of choice in California) are reserved for the pool or the health club.  If I continued my disregard for la bella figura, I may offend someone or at the very least confuse them.  My American friend Sarah told me that once she went out in her “tuta” or her exercise suit with no makeup. She ran into her landlady who promptly contacted Sarah’s Italian in-laws to inquire if Sarah was feeling ill since she had been out of the house looking so casual.  In Italy, being ill is the only excuse for failing fare la bella figura.

The first week here I sat back and observed. I saw one woman ride up to school on her bicycle in a tight pencil skirt, gorgeous blouse and stilettos. There was a light summer rain. She rode her bicycle while holding an umbrella, one child on the back of her bike and another in the front.  She arrived, floated off of her bike, got the kids out of their seats, grabbed her Louis Vuitton bag and glided into school. Not a hair out of place. I watched – mouth agape. She couldn’t be a real mother of two small children. She looked like a super model. I looked around for a film crew. This had to be fake.

I soon came to accept that not only are Italian women stylish, they don’t seem to be affected by weather. Italian women’s hair is never out of place. The weather reeks havoc on my style regularly. In the summer the humidity leaves my body and head wet and it renders my hair a wet, frizzy, wonky mess. In the spring, the pollen makes my eyes water and my nose run constantly leaving me looking like W.C. Fields. The wet winter rain and fog makes my eyes water resulting in black raccoon eyes from runny mascara. And again, my hair becomes a frizzy wonky mess. Why don’t Italian women suffer as I do? Is it genetics? How do they do it?

Fare la bella figura is not limited to young women either.  I have seen many an old women dottering along, holding on to her companion for support in stilettos! Stilettos!  They can barely walk anymore, but damn it if they aren’t going to look good. I can no longer navigate a flat surface in high heels, let alone the cobblestones. The older women also love their hats, fur coats, scarves and handbags. I particularly like to watch the older ladies during the Christmas season as Italians dress up to do their Christmas shopping. At the beginning of December, the older Italian women put on their finest attire as they stroll around the main piazza and shopping streets showing off their coats, hats and handbags  It is a far different atmosphere than the images you see of people clawing and fighting over items at WalMart.  This is slow deliberate shopping experience.  Another difference between Italy and the USA, no one in Italy is afraid of PETA.. Fur and leather abound, particularly among the older crowd. Fur hats, fur coats, fur trimmed scarves, fur lined leather gloves, fur lined leather boots, leather pants and leather skirts are commonplace.

The Italian women are not alone in pursuing la bella figura. Italian men spend an equal amount of time on their appearance. Italian men’s clothes are often tailored. It is unusual to see baggy clothes on men here. Italian men also wear sweaters quite a bit. Not just pullover sweaters, but cardigans. And they like to roll up the cuffs of their pants, jeans, shorts.  Italian men also wear scarves as often as women do and they pay a lot of attention to their shoes. They also carry bags made of beautiful leather – or what we would call a man purse, a murse. Older men frequently wear suits, bow ties, fedoras and a scarf. They dress this way all the time – just to go to the post office or the vegetable market.  And where the Italian women tend to be understated, Italian men have a flare for bold style. They are not afraid to wear colors and patterns. Lord knows they love a brightly colored pant.

I have observed the Parmigiani women for almost three years now. I still don’t fully understand how they pull it off. They make being stylish and elegant look effortless and easy.  I will never understand how they navigate cobblestones in stilettos. After 2.5 years it still seems like a lot of work just to run your errands, but it is part of the Italian culture. And it is expected. And now I have come to appreciate it. The attention to style makes one feel a bit better when you are out and about. And it makes for great people watching.

The Italian author Beppe Severgnini summed it up best.  “Being Italian is a full-time job. We never forget who we are, and we have fun confusing anyone who is looking on.”

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Below are some photos of Italian stye. These are not my photos. I got these off of the internet, but I assure you that I have seen some version of each of these outfits on a regular basis.

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Americans abroad · Emilia Romagna · European travel · ex-pat life · international travel · Italy · Parma Italy · Travel

Spring. Parma, Italia.

spring

Americans abroad · Emilia Romagna · European travel · ex-pat life · international travel · Italian food · Italy · Parma Italy · Travel

Cibo Americano

 

Not long after arriving, my son had had enough pizza and pasta.

Aleks: “Can we have American food for dinner tonight?”
Me: “What would you like?”
Aleks: “Mexican.”

Italian food is fantastic. It is fresh. It is simple. It is full of flavor, bbbuuuutttut . . .  after living in California where you are exposed to such diversity of cuisine, it is difficult to limit yourself to one style. We could not help missing some different flavors and styles of cuisine. And, let’s face it,  Mexican food is a staple of the California lifestyle.  And, Mexico is part of North America, so technically it is American food.

And mama misses her margaritas – as in the drink, not the pizza.

margarita

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A Theme Park for Foodies? Italians Say Bologna.

Eataly
Customers dine at the original Eataly in Torino which opened in 2007.

 

By Sylvia Poggioli.

Italy has more UNESCO world heritage sites than any other country in the world, and its art and cultural riches have drawn visitors for centuries.

It also prides itself on being a culinary mecca, where preparing, cooking and serving meals is a fine, even sacred, art. And now that the country is in the deepest and most protracted recession since World War II, why not cash in on its reputation as a paradise for visiting gourmets and gourmands?

In late February, Oscar Farinetti, who founded the Eataly chain of food emporiums, announced a new plan to help rescue economy: “Fico Eataly World,” a theme park devoted entirely to food and wine.

The project is a joint venture between Eataly and the municipality of Bologna, which is providing 86,000 square feet of land with warehouses to be transformed into food labs, grocery stores and, of course, restaurants. The price tag for the park is estimated at $55 million.

Eataly, which has over two dozen branches around the world, was founded in Turin in 2007 by Farinetti, who is CEO and owns a 60 percent share. The other 40 percent is owned by cooperatives of the COOP group of supermarkets.

The cooperatives have their roots in the Communist Party that was powerful in the Emilia-Romagna region that surrounds Bologna in the post-war period. The founder of the Slow Food Movement, Carlo Petrini, is also left-leaning, and another example of the ties between the left and the contemporary gastronomy movement.

The location for the Eataly theme park could not be more appropriate. Italy has many very different cuisines, but Bologna and Emilia-Romagna are widely, if grudgingly, recognized as the gastronomic capital of Italy.

The region is the home of Parmesan cheese, prosciutto di Parma, balsamic vinegar, and lasagna, among many other delicacies. Since the Middle Ages, the city was known as Bologna La Grassa, Bologna the fat – as in, affluent and epicurean.

Today, Bologna is also home to the world’s only University of Gelato, as I in 2013.

The foreign media has referred to the planned food theme park as a “Disneyland of Food.”

But when I mentioned the “Disneyland for foodies” to people shopping at two well-known Roman outdoor markets, everyone grimaced in disgust.

“Sounds like something for tourists,” Simona Vitali, a middle-aged woman shopping for groceries in Piazza San Cosimato, told me. “We Italians have no need for such a theme park.”

Farinetti the online English language service ANSA he hopes the park will draw annually 10 million visitors who will “play with this magical thing, Italian food.”

Eataly World is scheduled to open Nov. 1, 2015.

http://www.npr.org/blogs/thesalt/2014/03/09/286939246/a-theme-park-for-foodies-italians-say-bologna

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Parmigiano-Reggiano

pr1

So it has happened.  After 2.5 years of living in Italy I am becoming a bit of a food snob.  Last Sunday I was discussing cheese with my friend Giuseppe – specifically Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese (or Parmesan cheese as it is commonly known in the USA). Giuseppe’s family has been producing Parmigiano-Reggiano for over 130 years.  In the course of our discussion, Giuseppe told me that there are no protections for his product in the USA. I was shocked.

Then, this morning, my aunt sent me an article about how producers of European cheese are requesting said protections in the American market. The European Union wants to ban the use of European names like Parmesan, Feta and Gruyere on cheese made in the United States. This has American producers in a tizzy. I don’t know about the other cheeses, but I have to say, when you compare Parmigiano-Reggiano to its American counterpart, one is cheese and the other is . . . something else. And as we Have recently learned it may be sawdust.

Unless you have purchased Parmesan cheese from an Italian import specialty shop, I assure you, you haven’t really tasted Parmesan cheese if you are eating Parmesan made in America. The American versions taste nothing like the original.

Parmigiano-Reggiano was created in the Middle Ages in the Northern Italian province of Reggio Emilia. Historical documents show that in the 13th and 14th centuries, the Parmigiano-Reggiano that was made was very similar to the cheese produced today. Ya’ know the old adage, “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”  Why mess with something that has an 800+ year proven record of consistently being delicious? This cheese has been around so long that the use of the nickname “Parmesan” predates the existence of the United States by about 250 years.  Originally, Italians from other regions of Italy began calling the cheese Parmesano, which means “of or from Parma.” This nickname was later shortened to Parmesan by the French.

Under Italian law, Parmigiano-Reggiano can only be produced in Parma, Reggio Emilia, Modena, Bologna and Mantova, Italy.  European law classifies the name, and the nickname “Parmesan”, as a protected designation of origin (PDO), like champagne from France. Thus, in the European Union, “Parmigiano-Reggiano”  refers to cheese manufactured exclusively in limited cities. And, in 2008 a European Union court determined that the name “Parmesan” cannot be used for imitation Parmesan made or imported into Europe. Therefore, if Kraft imports its powdered version into Europe, it must declare that it is imitation Parmesan cheese.  And believe me, the Kraft stuff is an imitation. It tastes nothing like the real stuff.  Authentic Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese has three variations of flavor according to how long it has aged. It can be: mild and smooth; full-flavored, sharp and crumbly; or nutty and spicy with an almost gritty or crystalline texture.  After tasting the real stuff, I don’t think I will ever buy the Kraft version again.

The first distinction between the authentic and imitation versions is the strict method of production. Like Prosciutto di Parma, production of Parmigiano-Reggiano follows strict guidelines and regulatory inspections by the Consorzio Parmigiano-Reggiano. The Consorzio inspects each and every cheese wheel produced. Every. single. one. Typically the region produces over 3 million wheels of cheese annually! Thatsalotta’ cheese.

pr2Further, Parmigiano-Reggiano bears a special seal identifying it as authentic. A stenciled seal indicates which dairy the milk came from, the month and year of production, and a code indicating the length of aging.

Another distinction is that the milk used for Parmesan comes from grass or hay fed cows only. And Italian cows are not subjected to antibiotics, hormones, and chemicals. The result is a creamier, fattier, delicious milk. I tasted some fresh unpasteurized milk from a dairy farm near Lake Como and I have to say I felt like I’d never really tasted milk before.

Also, Parmigiano-Reggiano is all natural and made from raw cow’s milk. The cheese starter is natural whey culture with calf rennet.  The only additive allowed in production is salt. You will never find cellulose powder, potassium sorbate or cheese cultures in Parmigiano-Reggiano – they are illegal in the production. You will find all three ingredients (if you can call them that), however, in most imitation Parmesan cheese sold in the USA.

The whole milk is mixed with naturally skimmed, or separated milk resulting in a part skim mixture. The mixture is then is pumped into copper vats and whey is added.  It is cooked at a temperature of 91–95 °F. Next, calf rennet is added. Rennet is is an enzyme derived from the stomachs of the calves before they consume anything but milk. Rennet causes the proteins in the milk to form a curd.  The curd is broken into small pieces about the size of rice grains. The temperature is raised to 131 °F and is carefully monitored by the cheese-maker. After settling, the curd collected in a piece of muslin and divided in half and placed in molds. The process uses 291 lbs. of milk to produce two cheese wheels. The curd of one cheese wheel weighs around 100 lbs. Interestingly, the left over whey is used to feed the pigs from which “Prosciutto di Parma” is made.

Finally, after production, each wheel is aged for a minimum of 12 months. Then a tester from the Consorzio Parmigiano-Reggiano tests the wheels using only a hammer and his ear. The tester taps each wheel at various points, identifying cracks and voids within the wheel. Cracks and voids in a cheese wheel means that wheel does not pass inspection. If a cheese fails inspection, the rind is marked with lines or crosses all the way around the wheel to indicate to consumers that the cheese is not up to snuff.

Cheese that passes inspection is further identified with one of three stamps to indicate the maturity and variation of flavor for each cheese. As you can see, this is not your green cylinder of powdered cheese-like substance.

pr3The red seal indicates that the cheese has aged for more than 18 months. The Consorzio describes the red seal cheese as having a “distinctive milk base, with vegetable notes such as grass, cooked vegetables and at times flowers and fruit” and they recommend that it is served “with aperitifs, and in particular dry white wines, and as an accompaniment to fresh fruit such as pears and green apples.” Kinda’ sounds like a description of a wine doesn’t it?

pr4The silver seal indicates cheese that has aged for 22 months.  The flavor is “distinctive, with notes of melted butter, fresh fruit and citrus fruits as well as overtones of dried fruit. The cheese has a balanced mild yet full-flavoured taste, with a crumbly, grainy texture. It is an ideal accompaniment to quite firmly structured red wines and excellent when served as Parmesan petals in fruit salad drizzled with Aceto Balsamico Tradizionale di Modena or di Reggio Emilia. This Parmesan may also be served with any dried fruit and is superb with prunes and dried figs.”
There’s that wine like description again.

pr5The gold seal indicates cheese that has aged for 30 months or more. This cheese, has the highest nutritional value and has a dry, crumbly, at times, grainy texture. It has the strongest flavor.For such a distinctive cheese, full-bodied, firmly structured red wines, white dessert wines from partially dried grapes and sipping wines are ideal.”
Wowza!  I am telling you, this is serious cheese.

I have never seen any Parmigiano-Reggiano sold with the lines or crosses on the rinds. Given the price I wonder if consumers here would buy it with the imperfection of a mere crack?  Particularly since this “king of cheese” is not cheap.  It sells for approximately 15 euros per kilo or 11 dollars per pound. And that is without any import fees.

The way I see it, there is no problem with the US giving the EU their protections and designations for Parmigiano-Reggiano. The American consumer will decide for themselves if the “king of cheese” is worth the price. And the producers of the imitation stuff can keep on producing their products knowing that the American consumer will keep on buying it, out of preference, habit, patriotism and price. My husband is a perfect example. After regaling the wonders of Parmigiano-Reggiano last Sunday, he said that although he loves and appreciates Parmigiano-Reggiano, he still gets nostalgic for the powdered Kraft product. I think Giuseppe threw up a little bit in his mouth when he heard that.

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Digestion

digestion

Just like one must pay attention to the air in Italy, one must also pay attention to proper digestion.  Unlike, the USA, digestion is a very common and accepted topic of conversation in Italy. Proper digestion is very important to one’s health.

To insure proper digestion. you must not have cappuccino after 11:30 – milk is bad for digestion. I have no idea why milk is ok for digestion before 11:30 a.m.

The traditional Italian meal is designed specifically to aid in proper digestion. First is the antipasti made up of cured meats and cheeses. This course is designed to get your digestive juices flowing. Second is the pasta. Third is the meat course. These are two separate courses.  You will not see spaghetti and meatballs served together in an authentic Italian restaurant. If you see it on the menu, you are in a tourist restaurant.  You don’t see them served together because eating the meat with the pasta is bad for digestion.

Next is the contorno or the vegetable course. The logic behind eating your vegetables last is that the fiber will help you digest your meal.  I completely understand this logic and it seems reasonable to me, but I still like to eat my veggies first.

After your meal, and in case the vegetables didn’t work, you really should have an espresso to aid in proper digestion. And the final stage of an Italian meal are the alcoholic digestivi. These regional liqueurs are made from herbs, plants or nuts.  Grappa and Limoncello are the most famous digestivi, but here in Parma it is common to have a nocino after dinner. Nocino is made from unripe green walnuts.  Nocino is quite tasty, but in my experience, a nocino or grappa after dinner does anything but aid in my digestion.  In fact, the sugar content actually leaves me feeling ill, but that is probably because I am not Italian.

Also, to aid your digestion, a meal is to be eaten slowly and enjoyed. One reason that fast food is not very popular here is because eating on the go is not good for digestion.  Similarly, drinking on the go is not good for digestion and you will not see people walking around with paper cups adorned with their first name scribbled in black sharpie ink.  The first week we were here it was unGodly hot and humid. Not being used to such weather, I took to walking to and from school with a hard plastic reusable glass of ice water.  People were staring at me. Really staring at me.  Imagine someone “tsk tsk”ing  you with their eyes cuz’  that is what was happening.  I screwed up my courage and asked an Italian mom. “Oh, you really should not walk with a drink.  If you are going to have a drink, you should sit down and enjoy it.” Thing is, I WAS enjoying it.  It was like a life raft in the humid hell that is August in Italy.  And as for my digestion, it was too damn hot to eat anyway.

Speaking of drinking, one should not drink ice in your beverages or drink cold beverages too quickly when in Italy. Cold drinks are bad for digestion. During the aforementioned unGodly hot and humid summer months, cold water is necessary to rehydrate. And at times I admit I tend to gulp the ice cold water down like a prisoner on the chain gang since I feel like I am literally melting. It is refreshing to get the cool water inside my body.  I can’t help myself.  And Italian women cannot help themselves either.  I have been scolded many times for drinking my cold water too quickly.  “Senora, basta! Mio dio! Non beva veloce. non veloce!”

With the exception of ice cold drinks and veggies at the end of the meal,  the Italians have rubbed off on me. I have learned to stop and enjoy. i have learned that people “go for a coffee.” They take a break, leave work and go to the bar for 15 minutes to sit and enjoy a hot espresso in a real ceramic cup and saucer at a table with a tablecloth.  When we first arrived we made an appointment with the bank to have accounts set up, get a debit card, etc.  We arrived at the bank at our appointed time. We were ushered inside and taken to the desk of the person who would be helping us. We were introduced and sat down. Then the clerk disappeared for 20 minutes. When I asked where he had gone the response was “Oh, he went for a coffee” as if it is the most normal thing in the world to head out for a coffee when your client has arrived.  It was then that I realized that coffee is like a religious experience here. You don’t mess with a person’s coffee as it may well mess with that person’s digestion.  And that is, well, unforgivable.

The final bit of digestive advice from Italy – one must never eat with your shirt off or your belly exposed. This has not been an issue for this 51 year old overweight woman, but it is something one must consider when planning a trip to Italy. No belly shirts and no eating poolside or at the beach. A covered stomach insures proper digestion.  After an outdoor party one evening, an American friend pulled his shirt up exposing his stomach and shouted “Look all you Italians. My stomach is exposed and I am not going to get sick!”  I didn’t follow up with him to see what happened, but I saw him around town and he seemed fine.

I guess we Americani are a resilient bunch.

Americans abroad · ex-pat life · Italy · Parma Italy · Travel

“Toto, I’ve A Feeling We’re Not In Kansas Anymore.”

toto

Today my poor daughter did what I long to do most days. She burst into tears when the tutor asked her what the correct article was for her sentence in Italian.

I have always loved words.  I like reading. I like researching the origin of words. I like learning about colloquialisms. I like learning the difference between a colloquialism and an idiom.  I like to keep lists of words that appeal to my ear.  Words like verdant, flummoxed, phalanges and evanescent.

About a hundred years ago I took a year and a half of French. I was young, I never studied and I rarely paid attention.  Not surprising then, that my French didn’t stick.  Living in California I picked up a smattering (another favorite word) of Spanish – you know, enough to order food and beer and find a bathroom when needed, but I have always felt as if there were a hole in my education because I don’t speak another language other than English.

So, imagine my delight when I learned we were moving to another country where I could immerse myself in another language – a beautiful Romance language no less.  I was naive enough to think it would be easy.  I thought, “First I’ll learn Italian since we will be living there. Then I’ll learn French because the kids are learning it and I certainly don’t want my teenagers to have a whole other language that they can communicate in that my husband and I do not understand. And, besides France will be so close and its a Romance language too so how hard can it really be?” HA!

It has been a year and I still don’t speak Italian, let alone French!  I can get around, I can order food in a restaurant. I have simple conversations with shopkeepers, but I am frustrated at how long it is taking me to really learn Italian.

Learning a new language at age 49 is very difficult for my old brain. Il mio cervello e’ stanco e anziano.  I had always heard (from other Americans) that, “English is one of the hardest languages to learn.” My experience, and discussions with people who speak English as a second or third language does not bear that out, however.  The people in my Italian class and our European friends all tell us that English is simple. In English the articles do not change very often (a, an, the) and our verbs do not change for every person as they do in Romance languages. Granted, English pronunciations and spelling are difficult, but our grammar is relatively simple.

Italian verbs change for every person (I, you, he/she, we, us, you guys, them) that you are speaking of or about. And they have a separate verb tense if you being polite. There are so many articles I need charts and graphs to remember them all. And, there seems to be an exception for every grammar rule that I learn.

I also discovered that Italians don’t believe in silly rules. Rules are mere suggestions.  When I asked a friend  why the grammar rule that I just memorized didn’t apply, her answer was “because it is more poetic to say it this way.”  Now I have to think about the poetry of the language too?   Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.