so the other night the italian cowboy, lauras brother, paolo, came over to have supper with us. supper was this fantastic meal consisting of boiled quail eggs in a broth of oil and garlic and herbs, lentils with peppers, a fresh salad with kiwis and cantalope, fresh baked bread...i was in heaven....but the italian cowboy was making fun of his vegetarian sister, laura, saying that he liked steak the best, and that surely i did too since i was american. unable to properly express how floored i was by the boiled quail eggs, one of my favorite things, i just sort of ended up going along with it, and paolo said, ok, well tomorrow, well go have a steak, if you make me an american dessert. i thought that sounded like a heck of a deal, and i whole-heartedly agreed
so the next morning i called nana and got her carrot cake recipe. since these people have a surplus of carrots lying around, as well as nuts and oranges, i figured this would be a great thing to make. la nonna, the grandma, who is hilarious and curses alot and bangs brassly in the kitchen and then hands me delicate cups of tea, helped me make the whole thing. i know like, zero italian cooking words, actually, but we made it fine. while it was baking, filling the whole tiny house with amazing smells of simmering fresh squeezed blood oranges and cloves, la nonna called the italian cowboy, and told him something like "the ragazza (girl) has made your cake, its time for you to come over", and 20 minutes later he came in. so he comes up to me, the whole family is in the kitchen, and he starts talking to me about "steak", which i understand, and "tonight", and he uses the word "cambi" which means "you change", and i have no idea what hes talking about actually, im waiting for the words to settle, and he keeps repeating it and the family is like, she doesnt understand, blahblah, but hes super patient and finally, like a minute after the whole episode is over, i get what it was he was saying: i promised you steak tonight, so pop your cake in the oven, go change your clothes, and lets ride into the city for dinner. once i realised this i started laughing and i said, "oh, ora ho copito!" which means, oh, now i've understood! and we laugh a bit and then i say, oh wait, seriously? and he says yes, of course, and everyone is staring at me with sly smiles on their faces like, yes, you idiot, he totally just asked you on a date like, 10 minutes ago, so...?
so la nonna promised to finish la torta, and i put on the first clean, nice clothes that i had worn all week, and paolo and i set off into the night. this guy wears cowboy boots, wranglers, has a laugh that is, at its peak, like 40 tiny frogs being squashed together in a giant tickling machine. hes a goof ball, one of those people who is just always happy and chatty and content, and most importantly, he is able to talk and talk and talk even when the other person, e.g. me, is sitting there nodding and saying uhuh and si and contributing nothing to the conversation except for encouragement. so paolo takes me to this restaurant his cousin owns. its this cute little place, all exposed brick and drippy wax candles and a big fire place and old furniture. we order prosciutto and pane, pasta with truffles and cream, and huge tbone steaks, al sangue (rare). for two hours we sit there, and i am moved enough to say, "paolo, you are absolutely positively the most patient man i have ever known" (or, in my italian, something like "you have so much patient", but close enough). i say this because, for two hours we sit and talk, in italian, which for me, and i am sure for those listening to me, is a molto difficult experience. at this point, putting together a comprehensive, expressive sentence is like pulling hens teeth. and for me to understand, it requires much repition, much exaggeration with hands, and alot of elaboration and back tracking on the part of the italian. paolo, as i said in the first blog about these wonderful people, will talk and talk to me and explain what it is i am suppose to understand until i do, primarily because he makes alot of jokes, and he desperately wants me to be able to laugh, which, once i get the joke, i do. so i say this, and paolo responds with something akin to "darling, i have nothing in the world but patience". he is a horse tamer by trade; he takes the wild ones and ropes them into show horses. for this, he explains, he uses his mind and he makes the effort to get into the head of the animal and calm it down and make it understand what it is that it is suppose to do. so i love this man, because i can say, now and forever, that he is the first italian person with whom i have had an intelligent, comprehensive conversation, with absolutely no escaping into english for the tough stuff. at the end of the meal, he gives me my mantra: "un giorno parlero' perfetamente l'italiano", which means, "one day i will speak perfect italian". hoorah!
so the carrot cake was a huge success. the entire thing was eaten in one day, by the family and extended family, and everyone loved it. la nonna wrote the recipe and labeled it "american cake".
yesterday i went with laura to an old castle on via aurelia, the old road that leads to rome. the castle was fantastic, painted floor to ceiling in detailed scenes of hunting and sunshine and clouds and birds, and in one room there was a duck painted on the wall, and 6 bullet holes all around it, where some drunk lord took aim. i was impressed and overwhelmed. laura and i worked outside at the market. we sold her vegetables in the courtyard of the castle, and a man next to us sold his cheese, and continuously the man would becon me over and pump me full of another sample, exclaiming, "mangia! mangia!". it was a beautiful day; i had a full stomach of fresh cheese and fruit and samples of the "house" wine, i helped old ladies with their groceries and explored the grounds, and laura chatted with me nonstop about everything from politics and religion to history and why her 15yo son is so cranky in the morning (she said, ""i just keep reminding myself that i was worse then he was"). we worked till 1 and then came home for lunch, another stellar meal by la nonna, and then margherita, the little girl, and i settled down to a nice movie.
oh, i wish i knew how to express to the family just how much i adore all of them. everyone is so incredible to me, so patient and kind and they will talk to me and joke with me and ask me all sorts of questions. the other night after dinner, the dad (who is actually kind of scary and gruff and has, i think, limited patience for my limited vocabulary, but is non the less wonderful), went and got an atlas, and together we sat and looked at maps of america and photos, and talked about cities and my home, and then they showed me italian places that they loved and recipes from those people.
my italian, as i have said, is terrible. i mean, absolutely terrible. i have been told, however, that i am actually doing very well, and at times, everything is wonderful, at times, i do great. i alternate between having the time of my life to wanting to hang myself from the rafters of the irrigation system, because sometimes i am so so frustrated and cant understand a word, and i have never been in the situation of in no way being able to adequately express myself. each sentence i make is like a math equation, congugation and memory and making my tongue move in a way that lets me sound as though i dont have a mouth full of socks. but if i can say anything, it is that if you want to move somewhere and jump head first into complete and utter linguistic upheavle, italy is the place to do it. i have thought to myself countless times, these people are absolutely fabulous, they will not let anything bad happen to me, how much better can this possibly get, how generous and patient can one people be? i have been cared for and loved and fed and kept warm by so many italians now i cant even count, told countless times, "if you need anything, come to me", "eat! eat!", "drink! drink!", "where are your shoes? wear these!", etc. its amazing, and as i have said so many times before, after all of these experiences, and all of the kindness that i have been shown, here in italy and in germany with marion and kalla and costa and billy and in france with freddie, all i can hope is that one day, and everyday, i can put some of this goodness back into the world, and do for others what has been done for me. the golden rule, no?
i had such an amazing day today as well, but ill blog it later...the red velvet cake hust came out of the oven and i have to repaint my nails and study for a bit before dinner...