New photos are up, from my third week in Florence ! They are mostly pix from the weekend trips and regretfully, no pictures of Nextech.
22 September 2008
revelatory deep thoughts from this morning
Revelation #1: I don't look good in vests. Not sweatervests, nor that particular brand of Serena van der Woodsen organ grinder's monkey vests, either. They make me look like fat, frumpy, fifties' Frida.
Revelation #2: I would like a song called "Creeper." It's from the new Unicorns album, Arm's Way, which I've finally started listening to even though it came out early this summer. But it is a really good song. Actually, the album is altogether excellent; highly suggested!
And not a revelation, but a fun fact from this weekend was that while I was walking on the via Matteoti on Sunday, on the way to La Luna Rossa, an Italian woman stopped me for directions (!) And I knew exactly how to get to where she wanted to go (the piazza Liberta) (!!) But of course I had no idea how to say 'hang a left right here and keep walking until you hit the big gaudy arch. You can't miss it' (!!!!!!!!!!) I actually think that is a far worse feeling than altogether having no idea where anything is. It's been really frustrating lately with the whole language issue, mostly because of my unrealistic expectations. Like, I am fully cognizant of the reality that I'm not going to turn around and be fluent in Italian, but I still kind of want to be, at the same time. I was really happy that I could potentially instruct her, and really upset that it was the simple question of the language that prevented from being helpful. I think my wild gesticulations were truly cross-cultural. Whatever.
Revelation #2: I would like a song called "Creeper." It's from the new Unicorns album, Arm's Way, which I've finally started listening to even though it came out early this summer. But it is a really good song. Actually, the album is altogether excellent; highly suggested!
And not a revelation, but a fun fact from this weekend was that while I was walking on the via Matteoti on Sunday, on the way to La Luna Rossa, an Italian woman stopped me for directions (!) And I knew exactly how to get to where she wanted to go (the piazza Liberta) (!!) But of course I had no idea how to say 'hang a left right here and keep walking until you hit the big gaudy arch. You can't miss it' (!!!!!!!!!!) I actually think that is a far worse feeling than altogether having no idea where anything is. It's been really frustrating lately with the whole language issue, mostly because of my unrealistic expectations. Like, I am fully cognizant of the reality that I'm not going to turn around and be fluent in Italian, but I still kind of want to be, at the same time. I was really happy that I could potentially instruct her, and really upset that it was the simple question of the language that prevented from being helpful. I think my wild gesticulations were truly cross-cultural. Whatever.
21 September 2008
Vivoli + Sunday
Saturday night, walking home, I stopped at Vivoli to sample the gelato there. For those of you who haven't heard of it, Vivoli is supposedly the most famous gelateria in the world, but in recent years, popular opinion has held that it's been trading mostly on reputation. I of course, had to verify this for myself. I got two flavors that night for euro 2.50, which is a little more, but not much more expensive, than at a standard place. The flavors were 'arranciato e ciocciolato' (chocolate-orange) and 'riso' (rice). It was good. Very good. Perhaps not as good as Grom (my gold standard so far) but very, very good. Also, as someone who is somewhat of a devotee/connoiseur of rice pudding, let me tell you, Italy is paradise. Beside the paste called budino di riso, almost every gelateria has riso as a flavor, and I of course, get it nearly every time. Recall the Stuff White People Like entry on Study Abroad: "You acquired a taste for something (local food, beer, fruit). This latter point is important because you will need to be able to tell everyone how it is unavailable in your current country." This is totally going to be me about riso gelato upon my return. I am apologizing now.
Sunday, Sunday, shameless Shun-Day... What to say, what to say. Well, as most lazy Sunday mornings go, I didn't manage to get out of the house until noon, and then the café I was supposed to hole up in for the day ended up being closed, so I'm at another place near Santa Croce called "La Luna Rossa" (The Red Moon), surrounded by a wide range of Italian men watching the Fiorentina-Bologna football game. After nearly four hours (good lord) updating this blog, I have to go do real work now. Sweet.
Sunday, Sunday, shameless Shun-Day... What to say, what to say. Well, as most lazy Sunday mornings go, I didn't manage to get out of the house until noon, and then the café I was supposed to hole up in for the day ended up being closed, so I'm at another place near Santa Croce called "La Luna Rossa" (The Red Moon), surrounded by a wide range of Italian men watching the Fiorentina-Bologna football game. After nearly four hours (good lord) updating this blog, I have to go do real work now. Sweet.
Saturday
Refreshed after a very good night's sleep, I was more than ready to tackle Ravenna on Saturday. Ravenna was the capital of the western parts of the Eastern Roman empire (I know, confusing) after the sack of Rome and again after the fall of the western portions of the Roman Empire in 476 C.E.. It's weird and I don't remember the exact history so I won't go around spreading false facts. Anyways, the important things about Ravenna and its port city, Classe, are that as the beacon of light during the so-called 'Dark Ages' post the fall of Rome, they are wondefully well-preserved examples of Byzantine mosaics from the time of Constantine and beyond. The church of Sant'Apollinaire in Classe has the Mystic Meadow mosaic while the Basilica of San Vitale has the really, really, really famous mosaics of emperor Justinian and empress Theodora. Basically, it was everything I studied and was obsessed with in Humanities.
Here are some (poorly photographed) examples of the mosaics at Sant'Apollinaire, San Vitale, the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia, the Neonian Baptistery, and Sant'Apollinaire Nuovo:
Sant'Apollinaire in Classe:
The courtyard of San Vitale:
Mosaic of Emperor Justinian at San Vitale:
St. Lawrence rushing to his own martyrdom (...) at the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia:
Baptism of Christ at the Neonian Baptistery:
The Three Wise Men at Sant'Apollinaire Nuovo:
Dante's Tomb:
In Ravenna, we had the best tour guide/grad student lecturer ever. For starters, his name is Rocky. Yes, Rocky. He was the cutest, too. As I said to my friend Francesca, I simply want to marry Rocky and iron his impeccable linen blazers for him. Also, our bus had several of the Syracuse grad students on it, and being the creeper that I am, I sort of kind of eavesdropped on their conversation. This otherwise super creepy act ultimately made me feel a lot better about myself and my future because they only talked about procrastinating on their symposium and other research, the ethical implications of using Wikipedia, and the difficulties in accessing JSTOR off-campus. They are just like me, and I can be just like them one day!!!!! This is such good news.
Much like Rachel in Ravenna, I ate magnificently yesterday, but only one course. My friend Katie and I got lunch at this little cantina that was attached to a much-more expensive ristorante proper. There, she had raviolini with gorgonzola and I ate tagliatelle with ricotta salata, tomatoes, and broccoli. I really should start taking pictures of what I eat like an obnoxious food blogger, because I want a record of all these delicious meals!
Getting back from Ravenna was the smoothest of all the site visits thus far. I should mention (if I haven't already?) that Syracuse University in Florence has no David Leach-esque character to reinforce the notion of "To be late is unforgivable." Thus, we never leave anywhere on time (but otherwise I in no way miss such priceless little epigrams, I promise). Miraculously though, the buses left only five minutes later than they were supposed to from Ravenna, and we were back at the school by six. Katie and I, not knowing what to do with ourselves for the rest of the night, decided the obvious next step was to go grocery shopping. We also obviously didn't realize how hungry we were, because we left Esselunga with finocchiano (fennel salami), meringues, salt and vinegar Kettle chips, a bar of dark chocolate, a package of hazelnut wafers, and a tin of cocktail nuts. But we spent less than ten euro on the whole lot...? A feast in the Piazza Savonarola followed, with a welcome interlude by some friends from the Syracuse program, and then a late-night walk to Sant'Ambroglio, after which I began the long trek home to bed.
Here are some (poorly photographed) examples of the mosaics at Sant'Apollinaire, San Vitale, the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia, the Neonian Baptistery, and Sant'Apollinaire Nuovo:
Sant'Apollinaire in Classe:
The courtyard of San Vitale:
Mosaic of Emperor Justinian at San Vitale:
St. Lawrence rushing to his own martyrdom (...) at the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia:
Baptism of Christ at the Neonian Baptistery:
The Three Wise Men at Sant'Apollinaire Nuovo:
Dante's Tomb:
In Ravenna, we had the best tour guide/grad student lecturer ever. For starters, his name is Rocky. Yes, Rocky. He was the cutest, too. As I said to my friend Francesca, I simply want to marry Rocky and iron his impeccable linen blazers for him. Also, our bus had several of the Syracuse grad students on it, and being the creeper that I am, I sort of kind of eavesdropped on their conversation. This otherwise super creepy act ultimately made me feel a lot better about myself and my future because they only talked about procrastinating on their symposium and other research, the ethical implications of using Wikipedia, and the difficulties in accessing JSTOR off-campus. They are just like me, and I can be just like them one day!!!!! This is such good news.
Much like Rachel in Ravenna, I ate magnificently yesterday, but only one course. My friend Katie and I got lunch at this little cantina that was attached to a much-more expensive ristorante proper. There, she had raviolini with gorgonzola and I ate tagliatelle with ricotta salata, tomatoes, and broccoli. I really should start taking pictures of what I eat like an obnoxious food blogger, because I want a record of all these delicious meals!
Getting back from Ravenna was the smoothest of all the site visits thus far. I should mention (if I haven't already?) that Syracuse University in Florence has no David Leach-esque character to reinforce the notion of "To be late is unforgivable." Thus, we never leave anywhere on time (but otherwise I in no way miss such priceless little epigrams, I promise). Miraculously though, the buses left only five minutes later than they were supposed to from Ravenna, and we were back at the school by six. Katie and I, not knowing what to do with ourselves for the rest of the night, decided the obvious next step was to go grocery shopping. We also obviously didn't realize how hungry we were, because we left Esselunga with finocchiano (fennel salami), meringues, salt and vinegar Kettle chips, a bar of dark chocolate, a package of hazelnut wafers, and a tin of cocktail nuts. But we spent less than ten euro on the whole lot...? A feast in the Piazza Savonarola followed, with a welcome interlude by some friends from the Syracuse program, and then a late-night walk to Sant'Ambroglio, after which I began the long trek home to bed.
. . . quick interlude . . .
From these incredibly long posts:
I am currently obsessed with Dent May:
Dent May & His Magnificent Ukulele
I am currently obsessed with Dent May:
Dent May & His Magnificent Ukulele
Friday
Friday morning was a little bit brutal. I had slept for the grand total of an hour and a half in that half-dawn between Thursday and Friday before stumbling out of bed and to the school to leave for Assisi. The sky looked forbidding on my walk over, and it opened up properly once the buses left. Nevertheless, I was really looking forward to returning to Assisi. The last time I was there was during the Latin class trip, summer after junior year in high school, where we actually stayed the night in this cute little convent ho(s)tel and spent the day exploring the city.
Assisi is a very typical Tuscan town, which means that it's built directly into the hills that are actually the fringes of the Appennine mountains, which split the Italian peninsula in twain east-west. From the bus parking lot, our group took a series of escalators up to the first level of the city, near the church of Santa Chiara. All of Assisi is clad in this beautiful rose-tinged stone, remnants from ancient iron deposits in the area. Even in the rain, you could easily see the beauty of the architecture. But unfortunately, the breathtaking views from the piazza in front of Santa Chiara and later San Francesco were obscured but the fog. A small consolation was the beauty of the olive trees in the mist - you can really see the kind of venerable silver cast of the leaves and the silhouettes of thousands of trees planted on the hillside.
After taking a moment to appreciate Santa Chiara, our group continued walking up to the Cathedral of San Francesco, St. Francis himself. The building is huge and unique in its design: it's technically a double-decker basilica, along with a 'basement' crypt level that houses the tomb of St. Francis. The upper church is always open to pilgrims and tourists, and completely covered in beautiful frescoes of scenes from the life of St. Francis. Quick art history lesson: until very recently everyone (including myself!) thought that the main cycle of frescoes had been done by Giotto. Vasari said that was so, and the entire art community believed it for the next half-millenium. But recently art historians have examined the work of the frescoes there, and have decided that due to dating issues and comparing it with the confirmed work of Giotto in the Scrovegni Chapel, that the frescoes at Assisi are definitely not Giotto. They also definitely don't know who did paint them either, though. Quote our awesome docent-lady, "If you want to be famous in the art history world, which means you'll be poor but famous, figure out who frescoed the upper church at San Francesco."
Mass and churchy things all happen at the lower church, which is also covered in fresco. Unfortunately, due to some technical difficulties in my little touristy radio transmitter, I couldn't really hear any of what our docent was saying, which is all the more regrettable because I did find her very engaging. As we were filing out of the church, we could here a mass going, which was really quite excellent. I really like hearing the chants in unison of the hymns, sung by the parishioners. It's a very peaceful feeling.
Finally, we descended another level to the subterranean crypt of St. Francis. It... looked like a tomb. We weren't allowed to take any pictures inside the entire church, and I can't really describe the feeling inside the crypt/mausoleum thing besides uh, crowded? We did get to see the changing of the candles that burn directly in front of his tomb, though. An Asian (!) friar exchanged the half-burned tapers for fresh ones, taking care not to let any of the flames go out during the entire process. It was intriguing, but in that way of rituals you witness without necessarily understanding the true motivations behind.
I kind of regret not taking any pictures in Assisi, but it did rain all day, and I just felt like whatever pictures I took wouldn't do the beauty of the city justice. I was also kind of really upset that we didn't spend the entire day in Assisi, and instead after lunch, they herded us back on the bus for an excursion to Gubbio. Where's Gubbio, you ask. I don't rightly know either. It's another Umbrian hill town that we got hauled to, slightly against our wills? It is even more steeply built into the hills than Assisi, but is otherwise not much to write home about. Perhaps out of guilt for not taking pictures in Assisi, I took some of Gubbio, which will be up shortly. But yeah, Gubbio, not that impressive at all. Whatever.
After sleeping for the aforementioned hour and a half the previou night/morning, I did not do anything of note on Friday night besides eat four different types of whole grains/legumes for dinner that night. Actually, this is kind of an interesting story (yeah, that great): I have a feeling, much like Thursday aperitivi, that I will have a well-developed Friday tradition of buying 'sconto' (discounted) prepared salads and side dishes from the Esselunga (that's the Italian supermercato) on the way back from school on the Fridays after site visits. This Friday night's dinner of farina (barley) salad with roasted vegetables (grain #1) and cannellini beans all'uccellino (with tomato sauce) (legume #1) was augmented by warmed-over, leftover coucous dressed in tomato sauce (grain #2) and lentil soup (legume #2). Oh yeah, I am so living the life. Then I did the dishes and fell asleep without brushing my teeth. I still had another site visit to Ravenna the next day.
Assisi is a very typical Tuscan town, which means that it's built directly into the hills that are actually the fringes of the Appennine mountains, which split the Italian peninsula in twain east-west. From the bus parking lot, our group took a series of escalators up to the first level of the city, near the church of Santa Chiara. All of Assisi is clad in this beautiful rose-tinged stone, remnants from ancient iron deposits in the area. Even in the rain, you could easily see the beauty of the architecture. But unfortunately, the breathtaking views from the piazza in front of Santa Chiara and later San Francesco were obscured but the fog. A small consolation was the beauty of the olive trees in the mist - you can really see the kind of venerable silver cast of the leaves and the silhouettes of thousands of trees planted on the hillside.
After taking a moment to appreciate Santa Chiara, our group continued walking up to the Cathedral of San Francesco, St. Francis himself. The building is huge and unique in its design: it's technically a double-decker basilica, along with a 'basement' crypt level that houses the tomb of St. Francis. The upper church is always open to pilgrims and tourists, and completely covered in beautiful frescoes of scenes from the life of St. Francis. Quick art history lesson: until very recently everyone (including myself!) thought that the main cycle of frescoes had been done by Giotto. Vasari said that was so, and the entire art community believed it for the next half-millenium. But recently art historians have examined the work of the frescoes there, and have decided that due to dating issues and comparing it with the confirmed work of Giotto in the Scrovegni Chapel, that the frescoes at Assisi are definitely not Giotto. They also definitely don't know who did paint them either, though. Quote our awesome docent-lady, "If you want to be famous in the art history world, which means you'll be poor but famous, figure out who frescoed the upper church at San Francesco."
Mass and churchy things all happen at the lower church, which is also covered in fresco. Unfortunately, due to some technical difficulties in my little touristy radio transmitter, I couldn't really hear any of what our docent was saying, which is all the more regrettable because I did find her very engaging. As we were filing out of the church, we could here a mass going, which was really quite excellent. I really like hearing the chants in unison of the hymns, sung by the parishioners. It's a very peaceful feeling.
Finally, we descended another level to the subterranean crypt of St. Francis. It... looked like a tomb. We weren't allowed to take any pictures inside the entire church, and I can't really describe the feeling inside the crypt/mausoleum thing besides uh, crowded? We did get to see the changing of the candles that burn directly in front of his tomb, though. An Asian (!) friar exchanged the half-burned tapers for fresh ones, taking care not to let any of the flames go out during the entire process. It was intriguing, but in that way of rituals you witness without necessarily understanding the true motivations behind.
I kind of regret not taking any pictures in Assisi, but it did rain all day, and I just felt like whatever pictures I took wouldn't do the beauty of the city justice. I was also kind of really upset that we didn't spend the entire day in Assisi, and instead after lunch, they herded us back on the bus for an excursion to Gubbio. Where's Gubbio, you ask. I don't rightly know either. It's another Umbrian hill town that we got hauled to, slightly against our wills? It is even more steeply built into the hills than Assisi, but is otherwise not much to write home about. Perhaps out of guilt for not taking pictures in Assisi, I took some of Gubbio, which will be up shortly. But yeah, Gubbio, not that impressive at all. Whatever.
After sleeping for the aforementioned hour and a half the previou night/morning, I did not do anything of note on Friday night besides eat four different types of whole grains/legumes for dinner that night. Actually, this is kind of an interesting story (yeah, that great): I have a feeling, much like Thursday aperitivi, that I will have a well-developed Friday tradition of buying 'sconto' (discounted) prepared salads and side dishes from the Esselunga (that's the Italian supermercato) on the way back from school on the Fridays after site visits. This Friday night's dinner of farina (barley) salad with roasted vegetables (grain #1) and cannellini beans all'uccellino (with tomato sauce) (legume #1) was augmented by warmed-over, leftover coucous dressed in tomato sauce (grain #2) and lentil soup (legume #2). Oh yeah, I am so living the life. Then I did the dishes and fell asleep without brushing my teeth. I still had another site visit to Ravenna the next day.
Thursday
After school and aperitivi, I went to the Nextech festival with my friend Pete. I invited a lot more people, but since many of them were either tired from the week or preparing to go to Assisi the next morning, it ended up just being the two of us. Firstly, the journey to the festival itself, which I suppose was a mini-saga in itself. A quick geography lesson: my host mom's apartment is on the via Dei Bruni, due north of the Centro and about a 35-40 minute walk to the piazza del Duomo. The Nextech festival was at the ex-Stazione Leopolda, southwest of the city center, a good hour's walk from my house. Therefore, I took a bus to a stop vicino to the venue, but one wrong turn at the Porta al Prato meant that I walked fifteen minutes' in the wrong direction, with a bottle of Chianti in one hand and a map in the other. But after that little detour, and a correct left turn back at the Porta al Prato, I found the coolest venue, ever. I stupidly didn't bring my camera, but you'll just have to trust me that it was the best thing, ever. One thing that I actually really appreciated about the entire operation was that the promoters or designers or whatever really knew how to light the entire space in a way that was atmospheric without being garish or too over-the-top.
Stazione Leopolda used to be a train station, probably before they built Santa Maria Novella, but now it's a reclaimed space, maybe a bit like the courtyard of P.S. 1, but really not like anywhere I've ever been before. The station is set back a bit from the street, and behind these big, Deco-ish wrought-iron gates is a big open courtyard with weird modern sculptures and lots of benches set around the perimeter. Inside, the floor plan is actually kind of similar to a Roman basilica, now that I think about it. There are two enormous central rooms where they had projection screens (one) and DJs spinning (the other). The video projections included a very, very cool series on eyes and a kind of incongruous addition of the Gnarls Barkley video for 'Crazy.' The 'side aisles' of the space were probably the waiting areas of the old station, where they had smaller screens and benches for the revelers who were tired of dancing.
I hadn't heard of any of the DJs or the band that played that night, but all of them impressed me greatly. They were all from various locales in Europe; the live band, Poni Hoax, was French and I think the DJs were from Germany. Chicks on Speed were supposed to play on Friday night, but at the ticket counter on Thursday, I saw that they had already scratched. Oops. Anyways, for thirteen euro, I had a GREAT night of... a trashy, wonderful indie hipster dance party. It felt like I was home, which was a singularly wonderful feeling. And while we were sitting on the kerb before entering, finishing the bottle of wine, I have to say that the people-watching was incomparable. And by incomparable, I mean that it felt like I was in Brooklyn again?
My night was good enough for me not to get home until five, ante-meridien. This was perhaps a poor choice considering the fact that both of us had to be on the bus for Assisi at seven thirty. The walk home took a while, obviously, but it was surprising how many people were still out on the streets at that hour. Don't worry, Mom, Pete and I walked back together, and the streets of Florence are absurdly well-lit at night. We ran into two independent sets of other Syracuse kids out on the way back, too. I stumbled into bed a bit past five, knowing that I had just experienced something unique to my stay in Florence, though I hope that some other ridiculous event happens at Stazione Leopolda so I can go back. And that was Thursday.
Stazione Leopolda used to be a train station, probably before they built Santa Maria Novella, but now it's a reclaimed space, maybe a bit like the courtyard of P.S. 1, but really not like anywhere I've ever been before. The station is set back a bit from the street, and behind these big, Deco-ish wrought-iron gates is a big open courtyard with weird modern sculptures and lots of benches set around the perimeter. Inside, the floor plan is actually kind of similar to a Roman basilica, now that I think about it. There are two enormous central rooms where they had projection screens (one) and DJs spinning (the other). The video projections included a very, very cool series on eyes and a kind of incongruous addition of the Gnarls Barkley video for 'Crazy.' The 'side aisles' of the space were probably the waiting areas of the old station, where they had smaller screens and benches for the revelers who were tired of dancing.
I hadn't heard of any of the DJs or the band that played that night, but all of them impressed me greatly. They were all from various locales in Europe; the live band, Poni Hoax, was French and I think the DJs were from Germany. Chicks on Speed were supposed to play on Friday night, but at the ticket counter on Thursday, I saw that they had already scratched. Oops. Anyways, for thirteen euro, I had a GREAT night of... a trashy, wonderful indie hipster dance party. It felt like I was home, which was a singularly wonderful feeling. And while we were sitting on the kerb before entering, finishing the bottle of wine, I have to say that the people-watching was incomparable. And by incomparable, I mean that it felt like I was in Brooklyn again?
My night was good enough for me not to get home until five, ante-meridien. This was perhaps a poor choice considering the fact that both of us had to be on the bus for Assisi at seven thirty. The walk home took a while, obviously, but it was surprising how many people were still out on the streets at that hour. Don't worry, Mom, Pete and I walked back together, and the streets of Florence are absurdly well-lit at night. We ran into two independent sets of other Syracuse kids out on the way back, too. I stumbled into bed a bit past five, knowing that I had just experienced something unique to my stay in Florence, though I hope that some other ridiculous event happens at Stazione Leopolda so I can go back. And that was Thursday.
18 September 2008
internships and the nextech festival
I got it! I am now an intern for The Florentine, Florence's bi-weekly expat newspaper. The internship is through Syracuse, and my first story is going to be about the locations that Spike Lee used when shooting Miracle at St. Anna, which is set in a little Tuscan village. I'm hopefully doing internet research on Sunday and travelling around the actual places next weekend. Tomorrow and Saturday I am going to two school trips, to Assisi on Friday and Ravenna (!) on Saturday. And, fingers extra extra crossed, I am emailing Scott Schuman to see if I can interview him, because Florence is so frequently featured on the Sartorialist.
Starting tonight, the Nextech Festival starts in Florence. It's festival of "musica elettronica e ambiente visivo" so basically DJ sets, live electronica and lots and lots of projection screens. And even though we are leaving for Assisi at 7:30 in the morning tomorrow, I am still going to this show tonight. I will sleep on the bus. Plus live music of any sort is so very few and far between in Florence, that I should take advantage of it whenever the opportunity presents itself, right?And Chicks on Speed are playing tomorrow, so I might go to all three nights? I'll have a full report after the weekend.
Starting tonight, the Nextech Festival starts in Florence. It's festival of "musica elettronica e ambiente visivo" so basically DJ sets, live electronica and lots and lots of projection screens. And even though we are leaving for Assisi at 7:30 in the morning tomorrow, I am still going to this show tonight. I will sleep on the bus. Plus live music of any sort is so very few and far between in Florence, that I should take advantage of it whenever the opportunity presents itself, right?And Chicks on Speed are playing tomorrow, so I might go to all three nights? I'll have a full report after the weekend.
16 September 2008
all about my mother
Only not really at all. But my mother did send me an email today, asking why I wasn't writing more about the day-to-day aspects of living in Florence. I think my problem is that I have a hard time believing that my daily activities are interesting for other people to read. But... apparently they are? Anyways, today was the first day that I went to one of the little bars around school for lunch instead of grabbing a sandwich on campus. I should note that bar in Italy denotes a casual place for snacks throughout the day, and not necessarily a place only for drinks. Bars in Italy sell panini and sometimes primi piatti (first courses, usually pastas or soups) during the lunch hour, and snacks, bus tickets, and pastries along with drinks and other sundry needs. Anyways, this particular bar I went to was called Masaccio, and it's located on the via Masaccio, less than a five minute walk from the Syracuse campus. They have a selection of about twenty sandwiches, and after having one with melanzane e gorgonzola (eggplant and gorgonzola cheese), my new plan is to eat through the entire menu, and then start creating my own sandwiches, which you can do as well. The sandwiches cost less than three euro, and are more than filling washed down with a bottle of water from the fountain in the courtyard of the Villa Rossa.
My host mom, Patrizia, is also a wonderful cook. Last night, she made pasta with an eggplant-and-tomato sauce, followed by this delicious egg, mozzarella, and bread omelet cum casserole. My roommate Kristin took three helpings and I ate nearly as much, it was that good. I love the concept of the Italian meal in that in its multiple courses, affords you the opportunity to try (and eat) as much as possible in the pantheon of Italian cuisine. Also over the weekend, I had pane con lampredotto at the flea market in Santo Spirito. Lampredotti is the last stomach of cows, and in Florence pane con lampredotto is classic street food. The sandwich is made with lampredotti cooked in its broth, seasoned with salt and pepper and topped with parsley sauce and hot pepper. It is tasty, filling, and very cheap-- my three requirements for a good meal. The other kind of classic Florentine street food is trippa alla fiorentina, which is tripe simmered in tomato sauce and put on a sandwich. I saw a stand surrounded by people at lunchtime in the piazza Sant'Ambroglio, and I think I will go for lunch sometime this week.
This weekend is going to be hopefully excellent, with two day trips to Assisi and Ravenna. Assisi I've been to, but I am very much looking forward to going back to the church and monastery of St. Francis. In Ravenna is both the chapel at San Vitale and the church of Sant'Appolonnaire in Classe, home of some of the most beautiful Byzantine mosaics, including the mosaics of Justinian and Theodora in San Vitale. I'm so excited to finally see them in person.
My host mom, Patrizia, is also a wonderful cook. Last night, she made pasta with an eggplant-and-tomato sauce, followed by this delicious egg, mozzarella, and bread omelet cum casserole. My roommate Kristin took three helpings and I ate nearly as much, it was that good. I love the concept of the Italian meal in that in its multiple courses, affords you the opportunity to try (and eat) as much as possible in the pantheon of Italian cuisine. Also over the weekend, I had pane con lampredotto at the flea market in Santo Spirito. Lampredotti is the last stomach of cows, and in Florence pane con lampredotto is classic street food. The sandwich is made with lampredotti cooked in its broth, seasoned with salt and pepper and topped with parsley sauce and hot pepper. It is tasty, filling, and very cheap-- my three requirements for a good meal. The other kind of classic Florentine street food is trippa alla fiorentina, which is tripe simmered in tomato sauce and put on a sandwich. I saw a stand surrounded by people at lunchtime in the piazza Sant'Ambroglio, and I think I will go for lunch sometime this week.
This weekend is going to be hopefully excellent, with two day trips to Assisi and Ravenna. Assisi I've been to, but I am very much looking forward to going back to the church and monastery of St. Francis. In Ravenna is both the chapel at San Vitale and the church of Sant'Appolonnaire in Classe, home of some of the most beautiful Byzantine mosaics, including the mosaics of Justinian and Theodora in San Vitale. I'm so excited to finally see them in person.
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