oh my goodness, i am so nervous! FL's mama has taken a day trip to venice with un'amica, and left the kitchen, and 4 hungry boys, with me. am going to make a roasted chicken, the closest my little hands come to alchemy and love potions, and maybe mashed potatos and oven-roasted vegetables. italians in general are v. particular and do not like to sway from their national, or local, diet. FL is one of the few exceptions to this rule, as the boys loves anything ethnic, spicy, and creative, leaving me with free-reign most nights to do as i please (depending, of course, on whether or not i can get my hands on the ingredients). the other men in his family, and especially his mother, are not so keen on anything outside of the norm. which is fine with me: there is always a plethora of delicious italian cuisine in the fridge, from seafood to vegetables to beef to dolce. FL's mom is, as the term describes, a "desperate housewife", and more often than not her days objective is cleaning up after and cooking mass quanities of food to feed her boys, all of whom eat like carnivorous horses. actually...i dont know that i have gone into any detail on FLs family, with whom i am living. odd, surely?
FL has 2 younger brothers, matteo (25) and diego (23). they are both adorable in completely opposite ways, and all three of them are in different ball parks all together. Diego is wonderful, and was introduced to me for the first time when i saw him launch himself up and over a car and onto a brick wall, which he then scaled with his bare hands. at the top of the wall he let out some sort of "whoop", or cry of glory, and then jumped off the other side. "he's a bit...how do you say...hyperactive", explained FL. the second time i met him was at a little city fair, where diego had set up a "sink the soccer coach" booth, one of those wooden structures that dunks the person into water when a hackey-sack is lauched at the target. he was sitting there, perched over the tub of water, taunting gaifully the line of children laughing and waiting to try their hand at dunking him. Diego is always cheerful, always goofy, makes odd noises with his mouth, and studies chemistry. he and his mom are like peas and carrots, being the only two members of the household who speak regularly and at a raised volume.
Matteo is, if i were to come up with a completely stereotypical adjective, "italian". he's dark and handsome, stocky and built, and takes himself very seriously. when i first met matteo it was at the festival on the mountain, the big cormons party that goes all the way up mt.Quarin, stopping at the different wineries and aziendas for music, wine, and food. FL and i sat at a table at one of the houses, and this "stud" with aviator sunglasses and a popped-collar ralph lauren polo sat down opposite us, two blond girls with obviously-aided-by-victoria-secret monstrous cleavage on his arms. they were drinking sangria and laughing into one anothers faces. i noticed that his teeth were very white. later that night we were at the final post where there was a big concert. i was watching the stage when i saw matteo hop up, take off the once delicately pressed ralph lauren polo, and begin waving it over his head while he danced like, well, a drunked fool. "oh look, there's your brother", i said, and FL just laughed, and said this was pretty normal. matteo in public is always dressed suave, and generally only nods in recognition to me and his brother. at home he's super nice though, and always offers me the cheese, bread, etc at the lunch table. He hardly says a word, though as far as i can tell, at home at least, he talks more than his father, or FL.
the dad, giorgio, is adorable, though i swear he's only said like, 4 words to me. one time he said "hello", in english, and i got so excited i went running to FL and told him all about it. hes not a talker, and it seems like when he does talk its either about work with his sons, or at night with his wife while they watch soccer on TV. he is so, so nice, and incredibly hospitable to me, and always smiles in a way that puts me at ease and reminds me that it can be super nice to not have to say anything. FLs mom does enough talking for both of them. the word for "to chatter, to prattle" in italian is "spappagallare", which is what she does. i dont blame her, though; her boys would sit peacefully in absolute silence day and night if she let them. she's a pretty funny lady, a little goofy, always making bad jokes (she and diego whoop it up, and the dad and matteo snicker. FL generally rolls his eyes). she spends her days, as i said, working as a "slave" for her hosehold, doing far more work than i really think is necessary (martyrdom complex, maybe. for example, she does all the laundry for all the boys, wash, dry, fold or iron, and put away. FL said he tried one time to insist that he could do his own and she almost had a break down, so he reckons shes both pretty bored and in need of something to make her feel needed). the house is always spotless, the soap dishes are always filled, and the kitchen is always amassed with food, both classic recipes and new experiments, some of which fail (ex: one time she was going to make gnocchi, but instead she made one giant gnocco, filled with spinach. it was basically a giant log of intestinal death, and no one touched it). when her food is good, though, it is very, very good. she prattles through meals and babbles through housework and FL thinks shes crazy, but i get it. she has been incredibly kind to me, incredibly hospitable, takes into account what i like to eat and fixes it up, offers me socks and jackets and hands me new recipes to review. she drives FL absolutely crazy, but i like her.
so anyway, tonight shes off duty and as the house was purged of left overs at lunch it is now my job (i gladly have taken it upon myself) to prepare something. hope it turns out well!
my italian tutoring job from last night went great, and i sort of felt sorry taking the boys money afterward, as all we did was sit and chat about food and recipes and art and drink spritz. his name is dario and he speaks great english already, but want to buff up for his job, something related to landscape architecture. came back to cormons armed with my greatest success-find ever: Steel Magnolias, which i found shoved on the back of a video store shelf in udine. have been wishing, hoping, dreaming of finding this movie with italian subtitles so FL could watch, as i have told him all about it and he always refers to me as his "real-life steel magnolia". victory! FL LOVED it, cracked up and teared up and kept hugging and kissing me every time ouizer or dolly said something funny. now he wants to go to lousianna, as well as mississippi and georgia. we'll have to do a real tour of the south.
oh, and the good news (the very best news!): Fabio, the adorable co-owner of Porchis heard about my freakish desire to attend a pursità, or pucitare in italiano-friulano, the ceremony of killing the pig and making the various salamis, pancetta, etc. Porchis, named thus after their sacred mascot, a pig, makes their own ham every year in just this type of friulian traditional ceremony, and fabio, now my hero of all heros, offered the other night to let me help! he said we begin next week, with two very early morning slaughters, and after that the cold-air hours of the day are spent making salami, prosciutto, mortadella, salsiccia, etc. almost choked on my spritz with excitement! he said, "you can come help make salami, you dont have to worry about watching the pig get killed". but i told him no: am an anthropologist and a weirdo and it is my deepest desire to watch this unfold, beginning to end. so he complied. am thrilled.
suddenly so much stuff to do!
ok, must run to the grocery store and get things for supper.
love