Category Archives: Friends and Inimies

Don’t have enemies. It’s not good for you. So, that’ll be just friends, then.

I have no words.

Posted on by
6

It’s the way of things.

You miss, most, those things when they are irretrievable; when they are lost forever.

I say ‘those things’ but I also mean ‘those people’.

Worse, still, is when those people disappear from our lives unexpectedly, without warning, without the chance to say goodbye.  And, yet worse, is when those people take their own lives.

I don’t know about you but haven’t we all had moments in our lives when, for a brief few minutes or hours or days, it seemed that the solution to it all, all the problems and the hurt and the terribleness of life, the solution seemed to be to end this life; to not be?

The first funeral I remember attending was for St.  St was 21 or so and had been with D for a couple of years and we (M & I) were close friends with them.  We didn’t understand why.  Well, I say that.  In fact, unknown to me at the time, M had spoken to him that very day but I only found out about that later.

St got in the car with their dog in the garage and used a hose from the exhaust.

Later (but much later) D explained that the worst time was, actually, some time after the funeral when people stopped calling, stopped coming, stopped including him.

But still, I couldn’t quite grasp why St had done this.  I think M had a better idea but if he did, I don’t believe he ever told me.  I don’t know that D ever really knew or understood.

I wonder still, having never quite been there, how everything can look so bad that ending it all seems the only way out?  I see, this morning, the lady tramp, who sleeps on the benches where I take the dogs.  She, if anyone can, has reason to think that life is not really worth living.  And yet she is still there.  So why doesn’t she think that life is over and yet St felt that he couldn’t go on?

But we can never see inside someone else’s head, can we?  And we can never be that person or, even, put ourselves in their shoes.  Not really.

And you may wonder why I write this post.  Not enough that a very dear friend from the past did this nor that a very dear friend from the present attempted this but, last night, a dear friend of F succeeded in ending his life.

I had no words.  I didn’t know the guy but F had spoken of him a few times and he was a close friend.  He had texted him that very morning.  They called each other ‘sister’ and that was the word that he texted.  I couldn’t really give F the comfort he wanted or needed, not least because his shoulder was so bad I couldn’t hug him and hold him close.  He stayed awake all night.  I’m not sure that was all about the shoulder.

And it led me to thinking about a dear friend who may not have been here now – but is and for that I am grateful.

Someone said to F that G (the guy that committed suicide yesterday) was courageous (he jumped out of a 6th floor window).  And I see her point although there is also a selfishness about committing suicide and, unfortunately, a cowardice about it too.  Of course, the selfishness and cowardice are for the living to bear and not the dead.

But bear it we must.  And there was a song that some of you may remember.  But the title is not true, at least not for those left behind.

But last night made me think of St, all that time ago and the other dear, dear friend who is still with us and how things might be different (in both cases). And I want to scream at them that suicide is not painless. Not for those left behind and there is always someone left behind.

And, through all the thoughts my stomach churns for it makes me scared.  Of what, I am not sure.  Perhaps the recent incident with my dear, dear friend makes me realise how close it was and how it could have been and I wonder how I would be about it.  And it brings me close to tears.  Tears for St, tears for G (even if I didn’t know him), tears for D, tears for F (who has the last text) and tears for my dear, dear friend.

Tears because it is so hard to understand how anything could possibly be so bad that ending your life seems the solution and more for the people left behind, who will never quite comprehend what has been done.

And so I text my dear, dear friend as I don’t want the last text to be a single word.

I will stop this post now.  As I said to F, last night, I have no words………..

The same thing with the right person

Posted on by
2

To be honest, I’m just a little apprehensive.

I knew it was coming, I just expected a little more notice.  And it’s not as if it’s anything to worry about, really.  But, you know…….?

F phones.  He is at Liù, near my flat.  He’s not IN Liù since it’s only 6.30 p.m. and I know they don’t open until 7.30.  He’s there because he has to get some stuff.  He needs a cable for the TV so that it can be moved to the correct place in the bedroom.

“Would you like to go for a pizza later?”, he asks me.  “We can go to Liù”

“Sure”, I reply.  He’s going to phone me later.

He does.

“We’re going to Basillico”, he states, “for 8.30.  We’re meeting S”.

He uses the nickname so it takes me a moment to understand what he means.  “Is that OK?”, he adds, maybe misunderstanding my initial silence.

“Sure but are you sure you want me to come?” I ask him.

Now, you should know that this is only me being polite.  S and F haven’t met up since S got back into town.  And, I’m not really jealous but there’s something.  I mean, he was with S for 11 years and, you know, maybe with S coming back, F thinks there may be a ‘getting back together’.  I don’t really think so but…….

And, I think, perhaps it would be better for them to have an evening together, catching up on old times or stuff like that and I would just be in the way.  Anyway, S’s boyfriend is still in the States.  It will be weird with me being there but S not being able to bring his boyfriend too.

Of course, the question, just like the thoughts are all crap.  What I want is that F would not possibly meet S without me being there.  But one can’t actually say that, right?

But there is also the thing that I am not S.  I am not as good as S.  That my not being good enough will become obvious to F when he sees us together.  Still, I want him to say that he wants me there too.

And he does.  He calls a little later to say he is having an aperitivo at Bar Basso, which is in the same piazza.  I have just come out of the shower.  I can’t meet S without making the best of myself, obviously.  I expect him to be somewhat glamorous.

I say I will be another 10 minutes.  As I am leaving he calls to say he will meet me at the pizzeria.  I walk up.

I see them.  S with his back to me, talking to F.

We meet.  He shakes my hand.  I shake his and we kiss on both cheeks, as one does, instigated by me.  Why not, I think to myself?  He is the same height as F.  Thin but not as thin as I thought.  An old-fashioned haircut, a short beard, not over-fashionable nor quirky as he might be, being a designer and all.

We sit in the restaurant.  Afterwards I think about how strangely F acted.  Like he was over-excited.  It strikes me that he was excited about introducing me to S.  I think that either he so wanted S to meet me or that he wanted to show S that he had someone else.  I thought the former last night and the latter this morning – so, obviously, I have no idea.

He and S always spoke Italian to each other in the past, F not speaking any English when they first met but, several times when S spoke Italian last night he asked him to speak English.  He finds it difficult to understand S so well, what with his heavier Mancunian accent.

Anyway, I liked him.  S, that is.  He’s not me and I am not him.  We are very different.  He asked a lot about me and I asked a lot about him.  He told me that when I meet F’s family I will like them.  He asked how long we had been together.  F replied that it was four months to which I added that it wasn’t so long.  However, S seemed to think that it was and seemed genuinely pleased that F had ‘found’ someone – as did F.

At the end he said that it was really nice to meet me after all the good things he had heard about me.  And since he would only have heard those things from F, it made me smile as perhaps this IS the real thing?  Apparently he texted F afterwards to say I was simpatico – our equivalent of nice, I think.

I don’t know, really.  Should I feel jealous (or whatever this is)?  Do I, in fact, feel jealous?  I’m not even sure about that.  Whatever I feel, I feel less now that I’ve met him.  He’s more ‘gay’ than F, for certain and more ‘gay’ than me too, for that matter.  I think that’s what F likes about me and it’s certainly one of the things I like about him.

And, after all, F said that we’re all looking for the same thing really.  The same thing with the ‘right person’, of course.

The honeymoon is over

Posted on by
7

Well, nearly.

I think he was a bit pissed off that I went to A’s place last night.  But, then, if he won’t give me some sort of plan, what does he expect?  I mean, I wait at home and don’t know – is he going to the new flat tonight or not?  If he goes to the flat then he won’t be at my house until after 10.

And so, last night, when he arrived about 11.30 he said that he wasn’t going to go to the new flat originally but because I was on my way to A’s he decided he would go.  If he had told me, before, like the day before, that he probably wouldn’t go then I wouldn’t have accepted to go to A’s place.  And, even if he had called me a few hours before I could have got out of it, having been to the dentist yesterday.

But, maybe it’s good that I’m not always available.  But, maybe I should tell him the whole story so that he knows to be a bit more planned with me.

So, he arrived last night and came straight to bed.  He said that, on Saturday, he would go and buy a piumino (duvet to us).  They only buy thin ones here since there are only a few months of real cold.  He added that once he had that then next week he can spend a couple of nights at his place.  He probably means ‘we’ but I shall check in any event.  I try not to be too invasive.

However, it’s interesting that he suggests only a ‘couple of’.  Again, last night, he wanted Dino to be lying on the floor at his side of the bed and was really happy when he was.  And we cuddled for a bit and I thought – ‘OK so as from Saturday night he doesn’t live here any more’ – but it’s not like I didn’t know it was coming and, in some strange way, he never really ‘lived’ at my place – even if he stayed every night.

And, although it seems like we have been in this situation for ever, it’s only been a very short time.  Next week it will have been 4 months since we first met.

A asked me last night if we had really ‘talked’.  I said we had.  He asked if F had told me all my faults.  I laughed and said I didn’t have any.  Later as we were curled up and about to go to sleep, I told F.  He said ‘Do you want the list?’.  It was a joke.  I replied that I was surprised there was anything but, yes, give me the list.  He refused saying that this was what being together was about and that there were always things as there would be for me, about him, but that we just live with them.

He said we would definitely go out for a meal on Saturday.  The other night we looked at the flights to the UK to go to D’s wedding in July.

The honeymoon is over and now starts the long haul to a place that is, as yet, is undefined, uncertain – a place that is shrouded with the mist of the future – there but without form or substance.

I wonder if what we both want is the same.  Yet he said, before we met that, we all want the same thing.  I hope that’s true.

I have experience

Posted on by
Reply

Of course, it’s just a feeling.  But, you know, given the experiences I have, I think it’s not irrational.

I feel I’m about to be well and truly screwed over.

And, if so, then that will be that – finito.

And, that’s not what I wanted.

Add to that the saga over something else and I’ve really had enough.  I mean, don’t say ‘You can have this’ and then, later, when the job’s almost completed say ‘But I may want it back and if I want it back then you can bring it back’.  I just lost interest at that point which is why I have half.  Unfortunately, it’s not going to go away and now I want what I do have (which is only part) out of my house.  But that means that I shall be doing it on Sunday, by myself again.

You may have wondered why I have the Tag and section – Friends and Inimies.  Because Friends can be as much Inimies at times, seeming to want to fuck you up.

But, then, these things are only to be expected.  I have experience.

It seemed a good idea at the time

Posted on by
2

It was stupid of me, really.  But I did owe it to them (A & F2) and it seemed such a good idea about a week ago.

So, today, went horribly wrong.  Well, horribly is probably too strong a word.

First, instead of moving the rest (well, nearly) of his stuff from S’s flat to his new flat, last night, we did it this morning.  It was snowing last night and F was really tired. However, that wasn’t in my plan.

Then there was the shopping to do.  I required the meat, the vegetables, the stuff to make desert, some cold meat for starters, etc.  Then, I had to get tins.  I only brought one roasting tin with me and, for what I am doing, I need at least 3.  And then, finally, I had to get scales.  I just couldn’t go on any more without them.  Especially if I am to make a half-decent Treacle Tart.

I mentioned that to F last night or the night before.  He seemed a little jealous but I promised to keep some for him.  And I also bought some mince to make him Cottage Pie so that, this week, if he feels he wants something other than sandwiches, he can have that in the evening. It is his favourite English dish anyway.

But I explained that I was doing Roast Beef and it seemed a good idea to invite A & Fr – especially as Fr has returned from down South only today after some operation she had to have.  And I said that it was a good idea as F didn’t eat meat (well, not like roasted or grilled meat – meat that looks like meat) and, as he was going to be working it was the perfect time.  I did get the impression that he was a bit disgruntled by it but, as I said, I promised to keep him some Treacle Tart.

So, first we will have prosciutto crudo and coppa, then these peppers stuffed with tomatoes and anchovies (which is really nice), then Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding and then Treacle Tart – maybe with custard too.  And I got a really nice bottle of Barolo to go with it, which I know A will appreciate.  Oh, and I have cheese (Stilton and Cheddar) and some Port for after.  Mmmmm.

And now, as I write this, sometime after 6 p.m. I have not done the ironing nor cleaned the flat nor anything of the things that I simply had to do.  I have put the new pans in to be washed in a moment and I will do some ironing in a minute and then I might make the treacle tat or, more likely, I shall do it tomorrow.

I used to be quite good at preparing.  Now I just leave everything to the last possible minute.  It’s not that I don’t care but I do think, these days, that there is so much more to worry about than if everything is ‘perfect’.  Normally it all works out OK in the end.

And F is sorting out his flat.  He will still be staying here for a bit though and I am really happy about that.  I really like having him around; I like his presence, his ‘being here’.

And, as I write this, he arrives.  The hot water at the new flat not working.

And so I save this for later.

And he had a bad headache so I made him Camomile Tea, gave him an aspirin and he’s gone to bed.

Anyway, so now I have not done the things I should have and I will be rushing in the morning and so, what seemed like a good idea at the time (inviting A & Fr round for Sunday lunch) now seems so much more difficult.

And, remember, this is the oven that I hate.  No numbers on the dial just High, Low and Off.  Not my perfect kitchen.  Still, we hope it all turns out all right in the end.

Oh, yes, and one of the new pans that I bought is too large for the tiny oven. Hmmmph!

Hair today………….. ; All change; Doubly dippy

Posted on by
Reply

“I’ve just got to clean my teeth and do my hair”, I say.  He is lying under the covers.  I have just brought him a cup of coffee having been out with the dogs and drunk mine and now about to get dressed to go to work.

And, to prove he is not as asleep as he would have me believe he comes out with ‘which hairs?’

Now, I know I don’t have much hair on my chest and, unfortunately, my hair is thinning on top but…..
‘Bastard’ is my response.  He laughs.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

The wardrobe came last week.  It has mirrors.  It is big.  It is fabulous.  Not all clothes are sorted yet but they will be.  Soon.  The bedroom already looks much tidier and less ‘dirty’.

There are many things to put away and they will be done, mostly this weekend.

And I took the opportunity to have a bit of a move around.

So the TV was moved to the bedroom.  This has pleased F no end.  The night before last, as I hadn’t yet got a long enough cable for the aerial, we watched a video – during which he fell asleep.  Last night, having got the aerial and a digital decoder (as V couldn’t be bothered to find the remote for the one he eventually gave me back) and F having tried to sort out the getting of channels, we watched TV.  F is happy, there is no doubt.

The desk I have moved to where I thought I would have put the Dining Table.  On it is the computer.  Being an iMac, it is easy to move having only the power cable to worry about, the keyboard and mouse fitting snugly under the screen/computer to enable carrying.

I don’t think I like it where it is.  The table/desk, I mean.

I go back to my original idea of having the table near the window.  I think it will be better there.

A agrees.  He was round on Sunday making all sorts of suggestions as to how it should be changed.  It was nice of him but it’s not really for me.  And, anyway, he didn’t really understand that I wanted F to come up with ideas – it would make him feel more at home in the same way that the telly is now in the bedroom.

It all makes me sound rather wicked, perhaps?  But it isn’t meant to be that way.

So, undoubtedly, the table will be moved.  Maybe, even, this weekend, we shall see.

That means moving the ceiling light or, as A suggested, getting a cord by which to hang it across the ceiling.  Then there’s moving the other things around and, hopefully ending up with an acceptable living room/dining room.

Then all I shall need to complete it is a proper dining table and we’re done!

But I shall ask F, when we have time.  I would prefer if he were ‘involved’.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Finally, I’m pleased for all you UK readers to learn that the UK is out of recession.  You must all be very pleased

Of course, here, in Italy, Buzz Lightyear was saying that Italy and the Italians wouldn’t be affected (oh, yes, apart from those businesses that went out of business and the people who lost their jobs).

I do worry that, for the UK, the house prices are still far too high and wonder how long it will be before ‘double-dip’ is added to the word recession by the UK media.

I hope I’m wrong.

Last Night and Today

Posted on by
2

The alarm clock goes off.

As I wake from my very deep slumber I briefly consider the idea of not going to work until later, if at all.  I reach for the phone and select the ‘snooze for 5 minutes’ option.  That always works, me never being able to get to sleep again because I’m constantly thinking things like ‘did I hit the snooze but or have I switched it off?’ – often meaning that I wake myself up again before it goes off a second time and get up.

I want to turn over and snuggle up to F.  I think, for the second time during my time in bed, that I really wish he were here so that I could do that.  But he’s not here and I’m not there and, like last night when I wanted him for warmth (but also because I don’t like being apart from him) I think about how, perhaps, I should have made the effort to have gone up.

But the last couple of nights have been ‘bad’ nights.  I am immensely tired.  I do sleep to be woken again by the alarm.  This time I get up.

I start to pull on my clothes.  Rufus is there wanting attention but Dino is not, safely secured in the kitchen following last night’s small disaster.  I think how nice it is not to have to shout at them; Rufus being so less boisterous now and Dino not being there to be over-excited.  I get up and go and get my glasses from beside the computer.

I go to the hall and put my scarf and hat and gloves on then let Dino out who, like some crazed Tasmanian Devil spins and jumps and twists around.  But he’s been a good boy and so I show him that he’s OK.  Then realise I should have put my coat on and got more ready before I let him out.

As we’re walking up the street I realise I am still more than half asleep.  I forgot to put the coffee on!  Ah well, it doesn’t matter.  Perhaps I shall have a shave before coffee?  Maybe a shower too?

The ground is wet but it’s only spitting rain now.  Thank goodness.  However, the dog walking areas, still not recovered from the rain the other day, remain wet and waterlogged.  I consider not letting them into the areas and then decide to anyway.  The cleaner guy comes today.

I put the coffee on when we get home, having the flame much higher than normal.  I need this coffee.  I do the milk and then go and sort out their water and collect the bowls for the food.  I measure in the milk and find that whilst I have been doing all the other things, the coffee is nearly done.

I take my coffee to the computer.  I sit at the computer for about 20 minutes, drinking my coffee, Dino asleep by my side, wary of the nicking of stuff on the footstool now….perhaps?  I hope so, for his sake and mine.

I write this post which goes nowhere between a rather hectic day with telephone calls and work interrupting; by now, forgetting entirely why I even started this.  Except that I am tired and I really miss F and I want to be with him tonight, even if, at the same time, I really want to be asleep.

Today, this day, I just can’t wait for work to be finished and to be at home.  I wonder if F, who is at the shop today or, at least, was this morning, will be home late or early?  I hope early.

And now I remember the reason for writing this and the reason I am so tired.  I was out last night.  It was to meet FfC’s Mum.  FfI was there and so was V.  F wasn’t there because he is so busy and couldn’t be there.

It was a Chinese restaurant.  I’m sorry if you were one of the attendees but, apart from the Duck with Orange (whole orange segments that were particularly juicy) it was mediocre at best.  And I don’t like Sushi to be bigger than my mouth.  It’s supposed to be food that you can put in your mouth in one go – as far as I am concerned.  And the sauces were too glutinous and the taste not fine enough and the service was crap and THIS is why Italians are wary of Chinese food (although you wouldn’t think so by the fact that the place was full) and I really don’t blame them.  And it cost over €40 per head.

And I looked at V and knew it was done.  He looked older and like he needed some rest.  I guess I do too.  And, now, his ways seem far less endearing than I remember, even if they are the same.

But, at least I wasn’t let down by either person and, for that, I am pleased.  But I didn’t get home until midnight and then I had to walk the dogs and couldn’t have driven to F’s place and so I phoned F on my way home and said how sorry I was but that I really couldn’t come over tonight as I couldn’t drive (too much to drink) and that I couldn’t walk there (too long) and so I would just stay at mine – if he didn’t mind.  Which he said he didn’t.

And that’s why I wrote this post although now, at the end of the working day, I lack the enthusiasm to write it properly and fully and tell you the thoughts that went through my head last night.

But, basically that was last night and today.

Today is a bad day – maybe it’s because it’s Tuesday?

Posted on by
2

I really hate this bit.  The long, loooooong drag from Christmas/New Year until we start seeing the light and the weather gets to be bearable.

From September, it seems, there is the rush of getting everything done before Christmas; as if not getting it done will mean anything significant.  And then there is Christmas and New Year, here, extended until the 6th January – a long and (for a holiday) pointless time (not the Christmas Day itself, of course, which has significance) – the weather too bad and cold to make things enjoyable, the snow almost inevitably over and done with before Christmas Day itself – only to come back with a vengeance sometime when you think it might be getting better; the days too short (in terms of light) meaning that things like walking the dogs has to be done early and ‘gets in the way’ of other things.

The bright spots being that Milan is quiet and that, at least it is a holiday.

But now, now that we are back, and four days into the ‘new term’, so to speak – oh this is the worst.

The weather is still too cold and bleak and wet or snowy; making the daily drive anything but a pleasure; the days seem to get shorter even if they are not; there is no ‘light’ to look forward to (at least not for three months or so, depending on when Easter falls).

There is a bleakness to it, a sadness to the threads picked up from the things that were (or weren’t) finished before Christmas – everything the same and yet with nothing to look forward to – or, at least, nothing soon enough.

And worse than all that, you know that there will be more (and possibly worse) bad weather and gloom on the way.

I ache for the time when I can discard the three or four layers of clothing; when the chance of rain is diminished; when I can take the dogs out in the morning and the evening and there is still daylight; when it is warm enough that smoking doesn’t cause you to be shivering outside, even with the layers of clothes.

Everyone is expecting more snow.  The forecast that I use says it will rain but not snow.  I am glad but the rain is still miserable.  The dogs get dirty and the flat is impossible to keep clean now.  Dino seems to have gone into a chewing phase – well, chewing and eating everything.  I could kill him sometimes – but, of course, I couldn’t really.  But I can shout at him.  That’s something I suppose.

Rufus deteriorates, week by week, pulling himself back sometimes so that you think there’s nothing wrong with him.  But it’s only a matter of time, I know.  Ah well, such is life!  And he has lived a long life for the breed and for being a city dog for the last five years or so.

The answer to the Final Question is halfway to being complete – but it should have all been done and dusted before Christmas and the fact that it is only half-way irritates me.  But, again, such is life.  And I have this sinking feeling that the whole thing is not really over yet – like there’s going to be more shock, disappointment, inconsiderateness, etc.  It’s what I expect.  I want to expect better but, if I’m honest, THIS is much more like reality – this let-down.

OK, so this is NOT a good day but I shall bounce back tonight when there is a meal with friends.  Well, I hope to be bouncing back but I shall be annoyed if there is let-down again – and by two people, not just one!

And, although I really want to go back to find F there, I know he won’t be and I know I won’t feel like the trek up to his place and so, for the first night in weeks (or is it months?), we shall sleep alone and I don’t really like that a lot.  Not now.

Yes, today is a bad day – maybe it’s because it’s Tuesday?

Ristorante Leon d’Oro

Posted on by
4

As you may know, if you’ve been reading this blog for a while, I really like the Imperiale – a Chinese restaurant around the corner from my place (link on the side).  It is the only Chinese that makes Chinese food more or less the same as the UK and, in particular, it does Peking Duck (you know, rolled in pancakes with plum sauce and stuff).

I have been there a lot.  Run by a husband and wife team, the husband was always experimenting with dishes, trying a mix of Japanese, Chinese and Thai ingredients and, every time we went, would encourage us to try the dish that he had made that day.  He had talked often about his wish to open up another restaurant to make only these type of ‘fusion’ dishes.

Finally, he did.  The restaurant near to Piazza Repubblica (Via Adda, 3) is called Ristorante Leon d’Oro.  We were there on Friday night with S&N.

The place is cool; the décor with all the stone, black and soft lighting, reminding one more of a trendy discotheque than a restaurant.  I booked and as soon as I gave my name he asked ‘Is that Andy from the Imperiale?’  He was then going to give us one of the ‘smoking’ rooms but I declined as the other two of our party were non-smokers.

We got there and he recognised us (well, some of us) from the Imperiale.  We looked through the menu, unsure of what to try.  He had Asian Fusion as well as straight Chinese, Japanese and Thai selections on the menu.  He took our order but since we were unsure of what to have he suggested stuff.

And the stuff was quite delicious.  I cannot remember everything but there was soft-shelled crab in a kind of Japanese sushi style, little rolls of rice surrounding the pieces of crab; fried prawn on a stick of sugar cane; a kind of tempura of vegetables but smaller than normal tempura; a carpaccio of raw fish.

For the mains, N & I chose the Peking Duck because, well, we knew it would be the same as the Imperiale and it is impossible to resist although we promised to be more adventurous next time.  F had a parcel of orata, steamed with vegetables wrapped in a banana leaf (or something like that) which was truly divine.

I’d give a miss on the sweets though.  Asian sweets are never truly inspiring, in my opinion, with the exception of Thai rice pudding, done with coconut milk.  In this case I had crepes which were far too heavy.  S had strawberry fritters (like caramelised banana fritters but with large strawberries).  Nice idea but still too heavy.

And we had some digestivi – grappa.  We had a bottle of prosecco and then a few beers.  The total was €30 per head which, I felt, was not unreasonable.

A great alternative to the Imperiale and superb décor and surroundings.  There are three distinct smoking rooms, each self contained and really nice.  Special ventilation in each means that the smoking would not have been a problem but I wasn’t to know.

The only problem with it is that, whereas the Imperiale is a five minute walk from my house, the Leon d’Ora is about 20 minutes (foot and train) or about 10 minutes by taxi.  However, well worth a visit and the food is to die for!

Saturday night we also went to Le Vent Du Nord again.  This time F and I with A & Fr.  What a great place it is.  The beer divine and the moules just incredible.  Fr, who normally doesn’t eat moules, really enjoyed them although the guafre (a little like an American waffle) was her favourite, I think.

Le Vent Du Nord; New Year’s Food Feast

Posted on by
2

Last night, F, along with Al (of the R&Al fame) and another friend went to see Loretta Goggi. As she does a bit of singing but also a bit of comedy, etc. F said that, maybe I shouldn’t go as it would be too difficult for me. In this case, I agreed with him. I mean, if it were just music or if it were a film (with a plot) then that’s one thing – a stand-up/cabaret act is another thing entirely and I didn’t want to spoil his enjoyment by being there and him feeling he had to explain everything.

And so, as this had been arranged some time ago, R suggested we go out for dinner whilst they were at the show.

The other friend’s girlfriend, Ale was with us too. She is really nice and I like her a lot. We had quite a lot in common – mainly food-wise.

Anyway, on to the restaurant, which is why I’m posting this post. It’s called Le Vent Du Nord and is, apparently, Belgian. One good thing about Belgian places is the beer – and that was certainly true of this place. The one I chose was superb. Belgian beer has a particular taste, very malty, and I like it a lot.

But this place is one of the places to go for mussels (moules). I chose Moules Marinieres and it was, quite honestly, fabulous! Cooked to perfection and so tasty. Ale chose some other version. After we had finished, we both wanted a little more and so were going to get one between us – unfortunately, it was their last night before closing for a week and so they had no more left. Whilst we understood, we were, to say the least, a little disappointed.

Apart from the food and drink the evening was really nice.

And, I think, Ale and I could be firm friends.

If you like mussels (they do other things too, including meat) and Belgian beer then this is, certainly, a place to go in Milan, even if it is a little bit of a trek from the centre itself. In the end a couple of beers each, the moules, a sweet and, for two of us, a digestivo only cost 25€ per head – great value, I think you would agree.

The service was excellent. All-round, a great restaurant.

R dropped me home and I did the dogs. F rang after he had come out of the show and picked me up in a taxi and we spent the night at his place as he is working as I write.

Tonight we are just us, here, at my flat, being a little Italian with a little left-over shepherd’s pie (obviously NOT Italian) and zampone with lentils which I adore. Always eaten at New Year as the lentils mean wealth. Zampone is pigs trotter filled with some sort of meat stuffing – a little like a large sausage but more glutinous. It would never sell in the UK but you should try it if you get the chance as it really is scrumptious!

And, on that note, I wish all my readers a very, very Happy New Year.