Top photos from 20 years of blogging

Leo in Rome, 2018 (Piazza Bucarest)

I love this photo so much because it's the honest result of introducing a curious boy to the Eternal City. 

Leo was 5 years old when we snapped this photo, and excited to visit Italy (actually, really just excited to do anything except go to bed).

It's one of many photos taken in Italy that make me swoon. 

Here's a selection of photos posted previously on the blog that I love, and which best express the joy Italy has injected into my life -- which I guess, come to think of it, is the theme of this blog. The pure beauty of this country I happened upon during a study abroad program, chosen all because a week before I began college, I saw a movie that convinced me to study Italian or bust.

I'm reposting these photos to celebrate 20 years of writing this blog. Note, some were taken in Italy, some just reflect the life of Ciambellina, the person. Might need another post just for photos of actual ciambelle/ciambelline (hold that thought).

In the past two decades, I've had the thrill of visiting Torino (under the radar for many American travelers even though it's a fantastic city with a coffee culture all its own and a mountainous locale that's just stunning), various places in Puglia (including Trani), and of course Rome, Milan and Florence (and Siena and Pistoia and Pisa and Le Cinque Terre and San Marco dei Cavoti and Lucca and Bologna and and Focene and Matera and Venice and ... ). 

Torino, a city of grand piazzas

I've also chronicled Ciambellina's transition from aimless, vagabond journalist to besotted mother whose favorite subject (via photos or writing) is Leonardo.

He was an adorable little boy -- no thanks to me since I wasn't this cute as a child -- and now he's a teen with a gorgeous smile and rather strong opinions (Milan is the best city in Italy, don't challenge him!).

The most adorable Leonardo ever (Atlanta)

When you eat calamari fritti for the first time

My favorite place in Milan

The photo I always take when visiting Florence

To be sure, this is a make-shift photo gallery that includes my favorite moments during my travels to Italy and also my favorite moments from this lifelong project of remaining fluent in Italian and immersed in everything that Italy's one-of-a-kind culture has to offer. Buona lettura!

Monte Sant'Angelo, Puglia -- road-side pranzo!

 a

A gem of an appetizer in Puglia

Weekly flower market, Piazza della Repubblica, Firenze

The photos of Italy are more enchanting but of course the little Italian touches we've brought stateside feel pretty cozy. Our not-so-little shrine to the place we met.

Buon Natale Christmas decoration (in Atlanta)

Buon Natale sign with my little tesoro! (Leo's 1st Christmas)

Little souvenirs for little Italophiles

What I saw during those 24 hours in Rome

At Bennington, thinking of Leo

Priests crossing a piazza in Trani (2006)

Thank you for reading my blog. Thank you for caring about the ways I've incorporated Italy into my life. And if I know you in person, thank you for caring about Leo. That's the most important thing you could for for me. I love Italy, no question, but nothing is bigger than my love for Leonardo.

-30-

"Seeking the genesis of all the deception" (translating Di Lascia)

I am translating what I like to call the best modern Italian classic novel you've never read! (In English, at least).

It's called in Italian Passaggio in ombra by Mariateresa Di Lascia, and the working English title for the project, which was recognized with a grant from PEN America, is "Into the Shadows."

Working on a project you fear will never see the light of day is frustrating (the project hasn't found a publisher yet), but perhaps all the more so when you stumble across some of the most lyrical lines imaginable. I also love that the book features an unconventional female narrator. She's not perfect, she's not a devil, she's somewhere in between (more on this in a minute).

So I thought I would share a few short excerpts, particular as Literary Italy is in the throes of the final stages of this year's Strega competition (Di Lascia won the prize, which is like a Pulitzer, in 1995). The book is an intimate, first-person portrait of a woman recounting the tale of how her life unraveled, and Di Lascia frames the story by using a narrative device wherein the narrator says that after resisting the temptation to tell the story of her life, she has finally given in. And the book is just that -- her retelling the story of her life.

For Italian literature buffs, the book has the uncanny privilege of mirroring Menzogna e sortilegio by Elsa Morante, which triggers what's now called intertextuality. Essentially, Di Lascia structured her book so it opens in the exact same way as Morante's masterpiece. 

What's more, it gives us the story not only of the narrator but of the women in her life -- her mother, her aunt, her grandmother -- who navigated a rural, post-war Southern Italian society not ready for gender equity. Di Lascia zeroed in on the mother-daughter relationship, but also tells the tale of a beloved aunt forced to give up a child for adoption -- a decision she never fully accepts. Indeed, one of the most poignant and harrowing moments of the book comes when her aunt reunites with her child; initially, the reader thinks it might be a clandestine meeting with a lover, so intense are the aunt's emotions and so furtive her movements as she plans a reunion others would prefer to suppress.

There's a volatile father-daughter relationship, and something else that I think, again, is unusual: the perspective of a woman coming undone, told from the woman's point of view. Not a male narrator or author presenting this. 

I don't know how other translators choose projects but I find certain lines haunt me, and if the haunting doesn't let up, I need to do something about it. Here is one such line, a sentence that frames the beginning of the book, as the narrator begins to tell the tale of her life: 

(Italian): "In questa storia, che mi fu solo raccontata, cerco l'inizio di ogni inganno."

(English): “In this story, which was only told to me, I seek the genesis of all the deception.”

As someone mesmerized by her own family tree, I instantly felt a connection to the narrator (and the author, who to some extent was telling her own story), when I read this line. It's something Patrick Modiano, the French Nobelist who has written extensively about piecing together his family's jagged history, could understand. While researching the author's life, I remember feeling electrified when I discovered Di Lascia's parents had never married -- surely the inspiration for the unwed parents in the novel, whose daughter (the narrator) sees herself as a bastard who can never fly right.

The book begins like this:

(Italian) Nella casa dove sono rimasta, dopo che tutti se ne sono andati e finalmente si è fatto silenzio, mi trascino pigra e impolverata con i miei vecchi vestiti addosso, e le scatole arrampicate sui muri scoppiano di pezze prese nei mercatini sudati del venerdì. Ormai sono libera di non perderne neanche uno, e ho tutta la mattina per stare in mezzo alle baracche a rovistare a piene mani, fra stoffe colorate e sporche che qualcuno, per sempre sconosciuto, ha indossato tanto tempo fa.

(English) In the house where I’ve remained after everyone left and silence fell at last, I drag myself around lazily, dressed in my old clothes and covered in dust. Piled high against the wall are boxes bulging with cloth that I bought at the grubby flea markets held on Fridays. There’s no reason for me to miss any of them now, and I have the whole morning to roam around the stands and with both hands rummage through the colorful, soiled fabrics that someone, forever a stranger to me, wore years ago.

Here's another favorite passage, whose translation I have not finalized:

(Italian) "Quando aveva pensato a cosa sarebbe stata la sua vita, a quale forma si sarebbe piegata ad avere, se mai ne avesse avuta una, aveva sentito qualcosa ribellarsi dentro sé, come per una insopportabile imposizione. Allora aveva avuto un solo desiderio: conservare il più a lungo possibile, forse per sempre, la libertà di non avere nessuna forma."

(English) "When he thought about how his life would turn out, what form it would take if indeed it would ever lend itself to a specific shape, he felt something inside of him rebel. As if it would be an unbearable burden. In those days, he had one lone desire: to preserve for as long as he could --maybe even forever -- the freedom to have no direction of any kind."

What's interesting is that the passage describes the narrator's situation perfectly. This book is the story of Chiara's unraveling -- the story of her steadfast refusal to become anything, after appearing almost like a child prodigy. College graduate -- professional -- mother -- wife. She does none of that. But in fact, the quote above comes in a scene where we peer into the thoughts of Chiara's father, Francesco. 

If you're interested in learning more about this book or author, I've written an essay about the work for  the Ploughshares literary magazine (which you can find here). And here's an excerpt published by PEN America after the group awarded me the PEN Grant for the English Translation of Italian Literature.

-30- 

Italian journal 2018 -- final installment

Here's the final slice of the diary I kept during our first trip to Italy with Leo. Re-reading my notes, I see my journal was more of a hodge-podge of reminders and lists, with much less reflection on my complicated ties to the crazy boot nation known as Italy. But that's the nature of travel with children. I needed to take Leo to Italy -- to marry the two parts of my life -- even if it left me little time to write while there. My apologies that the reading isn't particularly engrossing, but the trip, and the practice of recording my thoughts as I reunited with my old adopted country, reminded me of something I wrote in another Italian trip diary: I want to live in Italy and the US, or really Italy and somewhere else. Because everywhere is somewhere else compared to Italy. Thank you for reading!
*

Aug. 2, 2018

Scoperta: Santissima Annunziata in the piazza of the same name is stunning (duh). A gold-encrusted ceiling, plus an altar set off by a railing that encircles it completely (it's like a little altar-island), covered by a “roof” festooned with golden angels. (Editor’s note: This description fails on all levels. The altar is heartstopping.)

Scoperta #2, in piazza Santissima Annunziata – the rooftop cafe of the Museo degli Innocenti. Vista da mozzafiato. Breathtaking view of the city – the Duomo upclose, in the background the hills. Also a very elegant bar!

Aug. 3, 2018

Ritual visit to the Mercato di Sant’Ambrogio where I used to do my produce shopping when I lived in Florence. Leo and I made the rounds of the outdoor produce vendors then went inside to buy some gorgonzola, just as I used to do.

I looked at the shoes on the far side of the market and then darted across the piazza to the mercatino antiquariato. Antiquing in Florence? Don’t mind if I do.

Life in Italy vs Life in the U.S. (a few observations)

My life in Italy is lived often on foot. Eating and drinking often, and often outside the (my) home.

Constantly collecting receipts from said eating and drinking. Lots of wanting, lots of consuming.

Life in the USA: Probably less activity, but also less stimulation – in tutti sensi con lati positivi e negativi…in every way, with positive and negative connotations. 

(Editor’s note, post trip: Meaning, I am often overstimulated in Italy – and unable to sleep. Perhaps because I am used to an America where there isn’t a piazza every few streets, window-shopping is at a minimum (outside of the big cities) and even if there are eateries every few yards, you’re not necessarily as tempted to stop (Taco Bell, etc). In Italy there are also constant temptations for consumerism – probably like living in NYC. Is that good? I want everything in Italy. The velvet Santo Spirito pillow, the house shoes from the pharmacy like I used to wear, the Moka with Alpinista top even though I have too many mokas already. See a pattern?)

Leo is learning some Italian. At the supermarket in Florence, for example, he knew to say “Leo” (pronounced “Layo”) when the cashier asked him, “Come ti chiami?” He can also respond correctly to these questions: “Ti piace la pasta?” (Do you like pasta?) and “Da dove vieni?” (Where are you from?”)

Future trips?

*How about a Tuscany-only trip (for old time’s sake): Montalcino, Montepulciano, Colle Val D’Elsa, Volterra; Val D’Orcia

*Or: one week in Rome

Aug 3, 2018 -- STILL!

On the highway between Rome and Naples, and we are surrounded by some of the highest mountains I’ve ever seen. Gorgeous. Let’s go climbing!

Best dishes of the trip so far:

*Le pappardelle al ragu di anatra (wide noodle pasta with a duck-based ragu sauce) – Pistoia

*Le pappardelle ai funghi con verdure (Abetone -- outside of Pistoia)

*Mixed antipasto – Il Quartino a Sesto (thanks Ilaria e Rosario!)
(Last entry added at the end of the trip -- read on)

*I troccoli allo scoglio – in Vieste (they had me at ‘scoglio’)

Best ciambelline so far (very important ranking)

*Caffe Pinti (corner of Borgo Pinti and Via Giusti) -- Florence

*Coronas Cafe – via dei Calzaiuoli – produzione propria ma ci mancherebbe

*Bar at the foot of Ponte alla Carraia, via Serragli side
(Last entry added at the end of the trip)

*Panificio Giuffredda – Defensola neighborhood, Vieste

Stopping at the autogrill on our way down south, we order sandwiches for lunch and the cashier automatically asks, “Il caffe lo vuole dopo?” Do you want a coffee after your meal?

                                                                 ***

From the Department of business cards I saved: Our fresh fish diet in Puglia, courtesy of La Pescheria, Loc. Defensola, 68, in Vieste. Where the fishmonger asked Leo, “Come ti chiami?” and he not only correctly replied, “Leo,” but also knew the answer to “Quanti anni hai?” (The response: Sei – 6). Another moment where a heart of attack of happiness nearly leveled me!

*

August 9, 2018

So much goes unrecorded, or not recorded until later when it’s come to seem like a totally normal event. Like:

*Walking – but sometimes careening -- down a rock-strewn path to reach our preferred beach in Vieste (Puglia), only to then walk across the tiny spit of a beach and through the water to reach a second even better beach. (Just like Jersey! Well, no, not at all).

*The blessed saltiness of spaghetti alle vongole; you’re inhaling the sea with every bite

*Also Italians on vacation – an encyclopedia of habits in and of itself (i.e., the gear they pack – including proper lunches with real utensils and snacks, not handfuls of sandy potato chips – in order to stay at the beach ALL DAY. And I mean ALL DAY).

*Related: how finding some Italian habits annoying is a gift – that’s deep immersion

*The light – the sunlight, especially at 5 pm. Artists, of course, have known this about Italy for centuries but it doesn’t lessen the "eureka moment" you might have every day here.

*

Cristiano cannot host us in his apartment in Naples because a pipe burst so we call the B and B where we stayed the last time we were in San Marco and managgia, they are hosting a wedding party so the main hotel – the beautiful, stone, medieval building – is occupied but there is a satellite location we can stay at.

*

Aug. 4, 2018

First night in San Marco (Mike’s grandfather’s town) and it’s "summer fest." 

We arrive tired from the drive and from two weeks of full-on vacationing only to find our hotel (the satellite location) is two feet from a blaring musical block party of sorts that went on long into the night. Quiet mountain town? Not so much. I took melatonin, inserted ear plugs and drifted off to intermittent sleep.

By music, I mean there was a live band (they played a version of Gianna Nannini’s "America," the only bright spot of the night) AND a DJ playing techno tunes.

Yes: techno music hammering our little hotel where our little angel somehow managed to sleep (although only about 9 hours). Ahhh....Italy!

Aug 5

How to rebuild “Marisa” in a way that lifts it above the traditional original stesura that is trite and lifeless? Note to self: Re-read Alice Munro short stories.

Is this worth the time or what about “Polly’s Guide to Italian Men”?

We are finally at a low moment in the trip – our stay in San Marco, two nights of ear-splitting music for the majority of the night. Not 2-3 hours, because they probably played from 10 pm to 3am or 4am (I declined to look at my watch for fear of flying into a rage).

Best laid plans of mice and men. We had talked up the visit to the town so much to Leo (who christened it “Cocca-town” since half the population or more has "Cocca" as a surname). Well, I suppose really the visit was only disappointing to the adults so onward and upward.

*

We are now on the coast of Puglia, “immersi nel verde” (as hotel brochures like to say) but it’s a verde molto particolare. The Airbnb house isn’t in a forest ("verde") but rather a grove of olive trees, fig trees, palm trees, etc.

We are staying in the town of Vieste in an area called Defensola. When we arrived, we were tired from the long journey, and we stopped at a gas station where there was also a restaurant. (Not so odd in a smaller town, especially a resort town like Vieste,) And it was there that I ate the best spaghetti alle vongole I’ve ever had (spaghetti with clam sauce, but it was a type of clam I’ve never had stateside – long and meaty). Stunningly good.

Leo asks, “Mommy, what’s your favorite number to count to?

And he asks, “What’s your favorite part of Italy?”

And also, “Mommy, what’s your favorite sea animal?”

One more: “Mommy, what’s your least favorite odd number?”

(Editor’s note: these are actual questions, transcribed as close to the moment uttered as possible so as to ensure authenticity. I want wallpaper with these questions. I want these questions to never end. Oh and for the record: 100, Florence, sea turtle and 11).

In Vieste, there’s no orario continuato. Shops – even the larger supermarkets – close for lunch. What a throwback.

*

How this trip differs from the last two: full immersion vs partial immersion.

This is a trip of the latter, which shamefully leaves me hungering for encounters with Italian, with any circumstance in which I can brush up against Italian life. Even a car radio blaring the voice of the DJ! (Editor’s note: when you’re alone, you can do anything, go anywhere, talk to anyone as long as you want)

Aug. 8

7:25 a.m.

Awake, alone, translating, scribbling notes nel bel mezzo della campagna pugliese. I’m surrounded by olive and fig trees, as I mentioned, and I feel like the only person alive. Yay! (I can hear, however, noises from birds and other animals lurking about plus the clink of the coffee spoons in the vacation rental next door).

*

I, too, am learning new words! Mancino = lefty. (Leo!)

Aug 9

Vieste is the Italian summer holiday headquarters.

We are just outside the town and in an area dominated by vacation villaggi – only Italians would dream this up. They’re not resorts – few stars/stele – but with the all-inclusive vibe (including presumably a coffee bar!). Everyone is squeezed in on top of each other – which is how they like it! 

Even in the digital age, Italians still hunger for human contact.

Aug 11

Final morning of the trip. We’re in Focene, a seaside town outside of Rome by the airport. Note for future trips, Jeanne: the beach towns near the Rome airport! That’s where it’s at.

As I write, I am eating the largest ciambellina I’ve ever seen (hot from the oven!). You can see it in the photo above. It has already become the ciambellina (or ciambella) against which all others will be judged. And it was ordered at a local, neighborhood bar that would fly under the radar for many tourists. Perfetto!

-30-

My souvenir shrine, or what I bought in Italy

My favorite post-Italian trip ritual (outside of crying and lamenting my exile) is to lay out my souvenir haul on a table and arrange the items for a “group photo.” Yep, a group photo of my souvenirs. It’s essentially a tiny, secular shrine to all the things I love about Italy. Probably sounds sad!

Odd thing is that in my post-trip melancholy, I find that seeing the little bits and pieces of Italy I’ve cobbled together to bring back gives me a tiny jolt. Right now, in particular, a steady bolt of vacation memory euphoria comes my way every time I catch sight of a small ceramic wine carafe decorated with an image of grapes that we bought in Vieste, in Puglia’s Gargano peninsula. Essentially my life depends in this moment on its beauty, on how lucky I feel that I persuaded Mike we could fit it into the suitcase.

Also a set of "Buongiorno" coffee cups. The “O” at the end is actually a little picture of the sun! Dying over here right now from the Mediterranean madness for quaint and picturesque.

And a beautiful picture of Florence – is it an engraving? Not sure how to describe it. And many many other things, including books, of course (Rossella Milone’s Cattiva AND a book of poetry Edith Bruck gave me as a gift and finally Sciascia’s book about the Aldo Moro kidnapping); magazines, the weekly puzzle magazine Italians are crazy for (not the only weekly puzzle book for sale at the giornalaio, if you can believe it! Not even close); a Florence coloring book of important paintings from the Uffizi (for Leo, though I can attest it will satisfy big colorers, too), plus two baby bottles of wine from Puglia (which is to say bottles of wine that are small, not baby bottles you might give to a baby) and a quartino wine carafe, like you get in a trattoria.

Putting the two wine carafes aside, the items I prize most whenever I return from Italy are inevitably made of paper. The books, the magazines, the Florentine paper. I even bought a roll of paper with the Florentine giglio to line dresser drawers and kitchen shelves. And I am not even thinking of all the little receipts and business cards and brochures I tucked into my purse and which followed me home. As they did last year; the bag of receipts from Torino is still sitting in my closet. If I were to look at them, I would find -- like Hansel and Gretel’s bread crumbs -- a trail of the places I visited.

So there you have it – my souvenir group photo. Holding onto the trip by gazing at my shrine.

-30-

I'm headed again to Italy. Here's how I prepare

I'm not thinking about monuments -- except the Pantheon, my favorite building in Italy -- nor am I likely to visit many museums.

I am instead, as an Italophile preparing for a trip to Italy this summer, thinking about ciambelline -- see the name of this blog! -- and where I will be eating them and how to find the largest, freshest ones at each stop along my route.

And I'm picturing myself walking the streets, almost obsessively, as a way to reclaim my adopted country. (I won't be happy unless I walk all day.) I'm thinking about window-boxes full of flowers and all of the other small workaday jewels I hope will pass before my eyes when I touch down in Italy.

I am thinking about my own private itinerary, especially in Florence: lingering under the window of our old apartment near Santa Croce in Florence; visiting Bar Simone across from the turbine plant where I worked; stopping by piazza della Repubblica because I had to thread my way under its arch and across its lovely cobblestones so many evenings on my way home when I lived in Florence; making a beeline for Costa San Giorgio and via Erta Canina and all the other hilly streets on the Oltrarno where one can get a good walk and a stunning view all at once.

Also: Mercato di Sant'Ambrogio, where I did my produce shopping, making sure to walk through Piazza dei Ciompi on the way (in the hopes the antiques market is still there). Also: any place where Italian words will be on display. So bookstores -- but also grocery stores. Plus, the sandwich shops along Via della Vigna Nuova, and the Arco di San Pierino where druggies used to prowl but now tourists consult maps on their iPhones.

I'm fantasizing about the beach towns in Puglia I'll visit for the part of the trip down South. I know that will be the most languorous leg of the trip, and I am already imagining the Pugliese wine (Nero di Troia, Aglianico, Primitivo, ecc) I'll be consuming along with bruschetta and spaghetti allo scoglio from beachside cafes as good as what you'd find in a city.

In other words, I am making a mental list of my must-sees, and more often than not they consist of tiny corners of Florence (and to a lesser extent Rome and Puglia) where I feel I can best breathe in the Italian way of life.

I'm also thinking about about what I will buy. What mementos will follow me home and insinuate themselves among my belongings, serving as little bursts of Italophilia in my daily life.

Well, I'll buy books, it goes without saying (thinking of perhaps shipping a crate home, in fact -- no joke. The literary translator's indulgence?).

Also, coffee, of course (Caffe Kimbo and other Southern Italian brands that are a bit hard to find in the States). Saffron, Italian breakfast cookies (if for no other reason than to distribute them to Starbucks for a teaching moment). Also maybe a new coffee canister. And another darling red and green "mokina" coffee maker, like this one.

And magazines of all kinds (including the political weeklies, maybe a cooking mag, and the world's most beautiful travel magazine: Bell'Italia). Plus postcards, brochures, stationery. Papery vehicles of Italian artistry, in other words (particularly vibrant in Florence where the decorative arts were much prized during the Renaissance).

I also fantasize about conversations I will have in Italian when I arrive. (Hey I'm old -- this is how I get my jollies! Too much wine and I am not jolly the next day). Conversations with friends, conversations with baristas (soccer will come up) and fruit vendors and the taxi cab driver (che casino!) and the signora waiting for the bus who's worried there might be a sciopero (labor strike).

And what I do to prepare for this onslaught of conversation and kibbitzing is listen to podcasts and watch movies and of course read Italian. Though I've found in recent years it's best, before embarking on a trip to Italy, if I consult newspapers, magazines and web sites rather than bury myself in, say, D'Annunzio. What are Italians talking about now? That's what I want to know. That's the talk soup I want to slip into once I arrive (even if it includes the name Salvini).

Here are some books I'm reading:

Lezioni di Tenebra, Helena Janeczek (who just won the Premio Strega!)
Non ora, non qui, Erri de Luca 

I'm also listening to podcasts, including this one.

Here's a movie I watched to gear up, with the amazing Italian actress Alba Rohrwacher:



Last but not least, a song from my personal, ready-get-set-Italy soundtrack (used in a film I want to see so badly, Il Nome del Figlio, with Alessandro Gassman).



Andiamo!

-30-

Delicious meals in Puglia

NOTE: I'm reposting entries from my time in Puglia -- one of the best trips I've ever taken.

Let's talk about food, shall we? Specifically the meals we had in the Gargano region of Puglia, in southern Italy.

Not trying to make anyone jealous -- in fact, maybe by posting these photos, we can tempt America into fully embracing Italian cuisine! (We are getting there, yes, but some more work still needs to be done)

The meal up top -- a simple but delightful bruschetta -- was on offer at a bar at a beach near Peschici. I posted the photo to show you its killer location, and to make a point: the Italians are eating spaghetti and bruschetta and drinking house wine and enjoying many other gastronomic marvels at their beaches while we Americans eat hot dogs on the boardwalk! What's up with that?!

It sure made for a wonderful day at the beach. Just because we were not near a great restaurant did not mean we had to suffer through some subpar beach food.

We managed to squeeze in one more restaurant listed in the Gambero Rosso guide. It was La Collinetta in Peschici (if you are keeping track, that's our fourth meal of the trip at a restaurant listed in the prestigious guide).

You see in the photo above I just had to order spaghetti alle vongole one more time. What's not to love? Tomatoes, clams and spaghetti cooked al dente.

Il Nostro Inviato had orecchiette, the classic Pugliese pasta dish that's almost always homemade (in this case it was al pomodoro). Sorry that the photo is not National Geographic quality. But you can almost about make out the name of the restaurant on the plate so there's a slight silver lining!
We also ordered calamari fritti, which were as always buoni buoni buoni! And I ate scampi alla griglia, which were also quite good.

It was not the best meal, and we felt slightly rushed. But it certainly was adequate. We of course also ordered a bottle of local wine: Primitivo Salento IGT Rosso 2005 Tenute San Marco. Excellent!

Can't beat Primitivo, which is beginning to appear on wine lists outside of New York and other large American cities. And we finished the meal with limoncello made by the owner's wife.

Those are the food highlights of our time in Peschici. Grazie per averci seguito! Arrivederci!

From the Archives: Puglia in Tavola

I'm an inveterate book lover -- you probably are, too -- and I'm a sucker basically for all books, especially if they come with a simple but soulful packaging.

That means, even cook books, despite my well-known aversion to cooking (as I like to say -- to myself and now to you -- I have a man to do those things).

I think I only want to write this post because I've fallen in love with the cover of this book. Perhaps you can judge a book by its cover!

Going to Italy? Here's your Italian trip itinerary

Once a year, at least, someone hits me up for recommendations in Italy. And it makes sense. I live and breathe Italy! Even after all of these years back, stateside.

The questions are often the same so I figured it might be worth setting down some basic suggestions.

(For something similar on Florence, you can go here).

Given the topic and potential permutations of a trip to Italy, this post is scandalously brief and glossing over all kinds of amazing Italian cities and destinations, but I figure this can be your starting point. I'll always be happy to add info later if the same question keeps coming up!

Skip down to the bottom for the real skinny but in the meantime here are the answers to "the usual suspects" for Italy trip-planning purposes:

What to do in Florence

Is it enough to say walk around and marvel? Probably not. I'll assume you're going to hit all the biggies (the Uffizi, for example, the Ponte Vecchio, the shops on Via Tornabuoni, the glory of Piazza della Signoria and Piazza della Repubblica) and I suggest you also roam around the Oltrarno section (you could do worse than station yourself for a morning or afternoon in Piazza Santo Spirito).

You'll find other ideas in my quick-hit guide to Florence.

Tuscan countryside excursion?

I usually suggest Lucca because of all the cities in Tuscany, it is truly unique. It's a walled city, for Chrissakes! There is a piazza that is a perfect oval. And a Medieval tower topped by a tree.

Obviously, Siena (where I spent a semester, studying abroad) is gorgeous as is Volterra. But honestly that's just scratching the surface. There are all kinds of other delightful little cities and no I don't mean San Gimignano.

When in Rome

I personally think you can do just about anything in Rome and you will quickly understand why it is the Eternal City. Just walk around Piazza Navona or Campi dei Fiori. Look up. Eat (especially in Trastevere or Testaccio). Drink. Spend an ungodly sum at the store with the Vespa gear or Bialetti (ahem).

Also, almost any season can provide a good moment to visit Rome.

To be more specific, I suggest: Stand in front of the Pantheon, then go in. You could easily fly back home after that. Leave it to the Romans to know the only way to top (literally and figuratively) a gorgeous building with a cupola is to insert a window on the sky.

I spent a mere 24 hours in Rome last year and was so thoroughly enchanted, I can't stop thinking about the visit. Needless to say, three days in Rome would be great, as would a week. More information on Rome here.

Also, Katie Parla has written for The New York Times and is an expert on Rome. See her ideas here about spending two days in Rome.


What about Venice?

Yeah, what about it? Okay so I am not an expert on Venice or even a frequent visitor. I believe I've been there twice. It's stunning because it's unique but overrun. And I don't mean overrun and hence I judge it and everyone who goes there. I mean overrun, as in, you might not enjoy it that much because it is a tiny city thoroughly overwhelmed by tourism.

That said, the streets are made of WATER. Hard to beat that as a concept. Also the Peggy Guggenheim Museum is quite interesting. Plus if you go, you can read John Berendt's City of Falling Angels as trip prep.

Wildcard (BOLOGNA)

Maybe try Bologna. It's a small, centrally-located city with gorgeous porticos on just about every building. Oh and the food is insanely good. About an hour by train from Florence so you could easily make it a nice day trip. It's in Emilia-Romagna, the so-called "bread basket" of Italy. And you'll be eating a lot of bread there. And pasta.

Wildcard #2 (MILAN)

Milan is an amazing city, and one often overlooked by Americans (although more and more are making it part of itineraries). It's amazing how, you ask? The food, the architecture, the fashion, the ART. Or simply the streets.

In fact, my favorite Italian painting (Rissa in Galleria by Umberto Boccioni) hangs in Milan's Pinacoteca di Brera museum (there's also another great painting, ahem -- Da Vinci's The Last Supper. But good luck getting a ticket!).

Other absolutely breath-taking places to visit: the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele, which is near the Duomo (stunning) and La Scala. The area called the Navigli is chock full of cool restaurants and bars, which are canal-side. Have a glass of Oltrepo Pavese for me!

Le Cinque Terre/Italian Riviera

I would be remiss if I didn't mention Le Cinque Terre/Italian Riviera, although I only visited once and it was years ago. The five little cliffside towns are overrun with tourists but also stunning. This description applies to Vernazza, in particular -- the most picturesque of the five villages. You may want to make your base another town in the region -- like Lerici or Portovenere -- but either way, nothing beats traveling by train to these tiny towns, watching the Mediterranean streak by from the train windows as you traverse vertiginous tunnels that seem perched on the side of the cliff and ready to tumble into the sea...and then hiking around the region (also grab a pesto pizza and a bottle of Schiaccetra').

My real advice?

Head down to Southern Italy. The food is so good you will wonder why you didn't come sooner. Most incredible region I've visited. In particular I would suggest Puglia. You can divide the province into three parts, choosing one to visit or as I did, sampling all three: the Salento peninsula, the Gargano promontory, and the area around Taranto. Oh and take along Italy's version of the Michelin guide (the Gambero Rosso) -- you'd be surprised how many entries show up for places like Bari (but you won't be spending a lot because everything is cheaper down South).

In the Salento peninsula, you'll find two types of beaches: spiagge rocciose and spiagge sabbiose (rocky vs. sandy beaches), you may eat horse (I did), you'll drink the local wine (the only wines I drink now, including primitivo and negroamaro) and you'll never miss Tuscany's tourists.

Click here for where to eat in Trani, and what to do and eat in Lecce, -- a regional capital that is sometimes called the Florence of the South.

Hit me up with questions in the comments or on Facebook (where I'll be posting this).

Oh and buon viaggio!

-30-

Puglia in Tavola, prose poem in mind

Earlier this week, I took down from the book shelf in the kitchen where we keep the cook books a small volume we bought in Puglia: Puglia in Tavola.

And I opened it up this morning, flipping away from the recipe I had bookmarked to see what else is hidden inside there, and I find names of recipes that read like the seeds of prose poems in Italian.

Words so foreign to me, that they beggar the imagination that they could be Italian (and yet I see they are).

Words like: quagghjariedde and ghiemeridde.

I don't cook. But a recipe book in Italian? A little piece of heaven. Almost as good as a ciambellina.

"LA STRADA" - Ilaria Graziano & Francesco Forni

One of the most gorgeous voices I've ever heard.

Medieval Salento!

Just discovered this book on a Web site for the CENTRO PRIMO LEVI ONLINE MONTHLY:

"Medieval Salento
: Art and Identity in Southern Italy" (University of Pennsylvania Press).

Look at the cover art!

And the title!

They had me at Salento.

NYT Visits Gargano in Puglia

The New York Times says Italy's Gargano peninsula in Puglia is the "next stop" in travel. Wow -- I was there five years ago!

It's not surprising. The area has some of the most beautiful beaches I've ever seen. The food, similarly, is some of the best I've ever had. And the Salento section, in particular, is full of tiny, postcard-ready towns [some along the coast, some up in the mountains/hills], all far far off the beaten path.

A Challenger to the Amalfi Coast?
The Gargano Promontory, on Italy’s eastern coast, has been known as a budget destination. Now it’s trying to change that.

See the article here:

http://travel.nytimes.com/2012/09/02/travel/in-gargano-polishing-italys-spur.html?smid=pl-share

Study Italian in Puglia!

An Italian language school in Lecce is offering five scholarships for foreign students who want to study Italian during July and August.

(I believe there are also five half-tuition scholarships).

Studying Italian in Puglia would be so awesome I don't have words!

You may recall I went to Puglia and absolutely fell in love with the land, the food, the sea, the rocky beaches and the sandy ones. If you don't recall, you can relive my holiday here:

http://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2007/09/viaggio-puglia-yes-puglia.html

or to see another part of Puglia here:

http://ciambellina.blogspot.com/2007/10/puglia-gargano-national-park.html


But more importantly, to find information about the scholarships, visit this link:

http://www.italianoperstranieri.unisalento.it/

Il caffè che fa centro! (Guglielmo coffee)

Lavazza. It's probably the most famous brand of Italian coffee, and one of the most recognizable Italian brands. Or how about Illy? Some say it's the best coffee you can buy in Italy.

Well, these days I'm not drinking either of those famous brands. I'm drinking Guglielmo coffee. You know, il caffè che fa centro! (which means, the coffee that hits the spot).

Il Nostro Inviato bought it in Calabria last month, and it reminds me of Quarta caffe, the brand we drank when we were in Puglia (yes, I'm talking about Puglia again!). It's dark, like all espresso, but I think it's stronger than Lavazza and the other more well-known brands.

When we first opened it last week, Il Nostro Inviato said, "Oh it's so strong!"

And Ciambellina, che sa tutto, said, "No, it's just because we've just opened the package. Espresso always seems stronger when you first open the vacuum-sealed package."

Okay, I was wrong. (O l'ho detto!) Guglielmo is stronger! And it's great!

It's just one more fantastic culinary item enjoyed in southern Italy. (For those of you keeping track, that list includes taralli, Primitivo, Negroamaro, Aglianico, burrata and mozzarella di bufala, and sea urchin).

Guglielmo has just relaunched its American Web site, and it looks like at the very least the coffee is distributed in Massachusetts (where its American operations are based in Waltham), New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Illinois. So if you live in any of those places, look out for Guglielmo.

If not, take a look at the Web site:
http://www.lespressousa.com/index.php

Botromagno Primitivo 2005

The 2005 Botromagno Primitivo is a great every-day wine.

Don't believe me? Well Gary V. of The Wine Library (yes, my favorite place to buy wine) says it's "the best house wine ever."

Gary V. is promoting it today for $12.99 a bottle.
"
The wine lover and rabid New York Jets fan says, "I really believe this is one of the best everyday wines I have come across in a long, long time. Primitivo is such an exciting grape for the money and all you Zinfandel fans need to pay attention and make sure you grab a case to have around the house!

Yes: he said Zinfandel. That's because the Primitivo and Zinfandel grapes are clones of the same variety. Hard to believe if you've ever suffered through some of the insipid white Zins favored by the ladies who lunch.

I've written quite a bit about Primitivo since my trip to Puglia last year. That's because in addition to being a great wine, and one I enjoyed in its original, beautiful home, it's much more affordable than a lot of the other Italian wines we can get our hands on here in the States.

And it always reminds me of what my friend Richard said about Chianti when I rented his apartment in Florence for a semester.

"That's the great hoax."

I don't mean to say I don't like Chianti, and I understand some will interpret his remark as blasphemy. But there are many other Italian wines that are really much better.

I've also pushed The Wine Library. Why? Lots of reasons -- including great prices, and a knowledgeable sales staff who don't push you into spending more than you want.

And the store and mini online empire is fronted by a person whom I would like to think is the new face of wine-drinking in America. Gary Vaynerchuk.

Just imagine: your classic American story -- son of a Russian immigrant makes good --combined with your classic New York guy. Not only is he a Jets fan, he's pronouncing the 'r' in coffee like you should.

And he makes these wacky videos about wine for the store's Wine Library TV. So you've got your classic New York wise guy extolling the virtues of a cab franc but sounding more like 'My Cousin Vinny' than some snobby, off-putting wine expert.

This is the way wine is in the rest of the world! Some people cite Robert Parker. I think I'll just cite Gary V.

One of the greatest things I ever witnessed occurred at my birthday party the year I lived in Richard's apartment, which was at the top of a medieval tower in the center of Florence.

At the party was a Florentine nobleman, who was a friend of my roommate, and an Italian friend who was a commercial truck driver. And they lost themselves in deep conversation about wine. They may have come from different walks of life but they shared a love of wine.

And afterwards, the nobleman, whose family's real estate holdings included vineyards that had been in the family for centuries, said he had never met anyone who knew as much about wine as the truck driver.

So check Gary out here: http://winelibrary.com
and here: http://garyvaynerchuk.com

Oh and have some Primitivo! Cin-Cin!