Category Archives: Italy

Overall thoughts on Italy and things we do

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

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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

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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.

Hanging pictures on the floor

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We’re hanging pictures on the floor. As one does.

Obviously, we’re not really hanging them since they won’t hang on the floor. The wall was measured and then the floor was cleared to make room and the floor was measured out. Bits of masking tape were used to mark the corners.

I brought in the pictures from the living room, a few at a time. I am acutely aware that I must not break any or drop any. It, of course, makes it so much more dangerous, me having this knowledge. I place them carefully on the floor (outside the area marked, of course) or on top of each other.

The pictures are laid out on the floor. They are changed. There are too many of them. The top right corner doesn’t look right – too many small ones. The order is changed. And changed. And changed again, and on.

Eventually, they are right, it seems. It seemed that way to me before now but now, after the final few changes, it seems right. The wall (for it is not all of it) is measured and masking tape used to mark the point where the pictures will start.

I bring the first one in. The picture is positioned and the nail point secured. The nail is hammered in and the picture hung. It is the first of very many. They are all photographs of the same woman. I go and fetch the next one (in order, as they will be positioned on the wall at the top) – the first row first – as they are positioned on the floor.

Nails are taken out sometimes as they won’t go all the way in. Or, rather, enough of the way in to allow the picture to hang correctly. Everything is, almost, very precise. Each picture is hung, not in a moment, but in a minute or two, placed, centred on the nail, hanging perfectly. Row after row.

It takes some time.

Then we are to unveil the sofa and move it back against the wall – the wall where the pictures are.

Ah, but wait!

‘I don’t want you think I’m a maniac’, he says, ‘but I want to clean the pictures first’.

‘Of course I think you’re a maniac, but a lovely maniac’, I reply, smiling.

The pictures are cleaned. The covers are taken off the sofa. It is in two pieces and they are slotted together. We do this and push it back against the wall. It is perfect. Of course it is perfect. It’s F’s flat.

I think that, tomorrow night it will be three whole months since we first met. It seems it cannot be true. Surely, it is longer than that?

I told him I loved him last night, when we had got to bed. He answered that he knew I did. I was pleased as it means he can see it even by the things I do.

And I do. So much and, when I’m with him, I am not scared. And, as he was on the ladder, banging another nail in the wall and his shirt rode up and I caught a glimpse of his stomach and looked at him, I also thought that he is a really sexy guy. It’s perfect. Well, not perfect but perfect all the same. And he loves me too and, sometimes, I feel I must be the luckiest person ever!

Giacomo

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Giacomo is not some guy (or, rather, he may be/have been) but a restaurant in Milan.  Not far from me, between Porta Venezia and Porta Romano at Via Sottocorno 5-6.

It had all the ‘look’. There was a serenity about it, partly because of the green, sort of chalkish but a bit darker, wooden half-panels on the walls, the fans on the ceiling, the ambiance, the waiters with their long aprons, reminding one of bygone days.

The food was superb. One of the best fish restaurants in Milan, F said. I had soup – mussels and clams – to start with and then the cod with a loose crunchy crust and saffron sauce (hollandaise). We had some deep fried courgette flowers and courgettes to accompany the main course.  F had the mixed raw fish starter (which was divine) and then the seared tuna with a really strong, sweet caper sauce.

I don’t know what the wine was. F chose it. It was his birthday, after all.

And, just the two of us.

The only thing that let it down a bit was the service – although excellent and attentive, the staff kept on leaning over me to get stuff off the table.  Of course, being in Italy, there’s no soft light in the restaurant – people prefer to see what they’re eating – but it wasn’t as harsh as you normally have.

The clientele were mixed but I did hear a lot of foreign voices.  This is, after all, not cheap.  I don’t know how much it was for the two of us (the rule here is that, if it’s your birthday, then you pay) but the starters were about 18 Euro and the main courses about 25+, so, with wine and dessert (F had a chocolate bombe which was to die for) it would have been upward of 75 Euro per head.  However, a must if you’re here and don’t want to worry about the price.

There is No Primark in Milan

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There. In spite of this being one of the fashion centres of the world and there being many other shops like Zara and H&M and a million and one outlet shops, THERE IS NO PRIMARK IN MILAN.

Really sorry for those of you looking for it from all over Europe but it just isn’t here (unless, of course, it’s such a big secret that nobody knows about!)!

And they ignored my email regarding this.

Update [May 2015]: I have been told that Primark are currently looking for a site in Milan (and also Rome and Venice) to open a shop. From what I read on the Internet, these shops should be open before the end of 2015.

Le Vent Du Nord; New Year’s Food Feast

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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.

La Belle Aurore – great bar and great lunchtime food.

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For the first time, I ate in the La Belle Aurora Café in Via Abamonti on the corner with Via Castel Morrone.

F left the house early and, because I would have had to get up to lock the door, finally, he took one of the keys.  I told him to and he said no and I said that if he didn’t I would have to get up – and so he did!  Hurrah!  And now all I need to do is get another front door key and give that to him!

Anyway, he got up early because IKEA were delivering some units for the new flat.  And then, after, I went over and helped him put them up.  We finished about 1.30 and went for lunch.  The other day we had happened in La Belle Aurora for a very late breakfast and they were serving lunch, which also smelt good.  So today, as the café is, sort of, about halfway between his place and mine, we went there.

F had a risotto with peas and asparagus (which I tasted and it was really good) and I had roast pork with an orange sauce and puree (mashed potato to you folks not in Italy).  We also had a German beer which I forget the name of.  The food, limited to a single primo and single secondo, was excellent.  The whole lot came to less than 15 Euro.  Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure they only do food at lunchtimes but for those of you who visit Milan and go to Il Salvagente (the oldest outlet store in Milan), it’s worth a walk up there should you want a break at lunchtime.  Alternatively, if you’re seeing or staying with me, we should definitely go as it’s less than 10 minutes from my home.

This café/bar has a wonderful atmosphere.  It feels kinda French.  The tables and chairs are old, wooden and have seen better days but that is all part of it’s charm.  The staff were good (as they always are).  I was struck by the crowd of people.  They were a mixture but you had the feel of being on the left bank of the Seine rather than downtown Milan – like they really could be writers, artistes or intellectuals.

I’ve always liked this bar.  And the food did not disappoint. In fact it was all rather good and very tasty.

Whilst we were putting up the units, we finally decided that we would spend the New Year alone, at my place, even if we have had several offers for parties and dinners.  F said that he would ‘really like if it were just the two of us, with the dogs.  And, so would I.  But it was still nice to hear him say it.

Last night, whilst we were at his place having dinner and he was on the phone, between courses, I looked at him and thought how really cool and sexy he was and what an overall nice guy he is and, therefore, how lucky I was to have ended up with him.

And now it’s taken for granted that we spend the nights together (the only discussion being about where), except for certain situations (like he’s away, etc.) and I like that we have slipped easily into this routine and that it feels warm and comfortable and I’m pretty sure he feels the same.

And, every day that I am with him, I am truly grateful for how my life can be so good.

It’s like stepping through a portal into the Dark Ages.

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It’s a simple thing, really. I want to pay a bill. I have my bank account details and their bank account details. I need to make the payment today.

In the UK, I would go to a (any) branch of my bank and make the payment (if it wasn’t online). This would be a simple thing. They would check, via computer, that I had enough funds. They would make the payment by the computer. I may have to sign something or use my bank card. The payment would be made and, within a couple of days (or the same day if the same bank) the payment would be done. Easy.

Ma, siamo in Italia (but, we are in Italy). I go to the nearest bank. The same bank as mine but a different branch. No, they can’t do it. But they can send the slip that I fill in, to my branch, who will make the payment. Or I can pay it by cash and then they can do it from there. This, I remind you, is the same bank, with branches all over the North of Italy (maybe, even, all of Italy!). It’s just not my branch.

OK then, I say, can I withdraw the money from my account and do it that way. Apparently not. You see, my money is only at the branch I have the current account with. But, what she can do, if I fill in the form, is to fax the form to my bank and they will do it today.  Fax!  Perhaps carrier pigeon would make the whole system run faster.

Wait, I think, they have computers.  But, not, it can’t be done.  So, I ask myself, what is the point in banking with a ‘nationwide’ bank if you can’t do much except withdraw money from the cash machines?

However, I really need to pay it and so I fill in the form. She telephones my branch to confirm that I have a current account there (I wonder what is the point in computers here?) and asks for the fax number so that she can fax it through.

So, she will, by now, have faxed it through. Someone at my branch will have typed it into the computer and then the payment will be made in God knows how many days.

And then I went outside to withdraw money from the cash machine – which, if I didn’t have enough money in the account, wouldn’t have let me have it.

I am puzzled as to how this country actually works at all. Sometimes, it’s like stepping through a portal into the Dark Ages.

I go Christmas Shopping (finally)

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Milan is Milan.  It is raining in the way that I have only really experienced here.  Heavy, wet, miserable.

And, yet, it’s not for me.  There is a sea of waving umbrellas.  Waving because as the people move to and fro, they have to move their umbrellas.  The rain is unforgiving.  I move through the people with a lot of serenity.  I have decided that THIS, this moment, this time, is the best for Christmas.  I left the house at 5 p.m.  The streets are crowded but not too bad.  Partly it is the weather, partly because, this evening is the big dinner for the Italians, so what the hell would they be doing out of their house except to be getting ready to go or actually going to friends or relatives?

We, too, shall be going to friends for dinner.  It is R’s birthday.

I don’t know them well enough and, so, have made his favourite English desert – Lemon Meringue Pie – as a kind of present (although F & I are giving him something, as a joint present, chosen by F, of course).  I started to get everything ready earlier.  And then I realised I had a small problem.  I had no scales.  No means of weighing anything!  And, for me, I can only do recipes with exact measurements.

>But I had no time to go and find scales and so I guessed.  It seems OK, but I really hope it is.  We shall see and I shall let you know.  It’s the pastry that worries me the most.  And that is usually something I do really well.

So, back to where I was.  In Corso Buenos Aires, with only the vaguest of ideas as to what to buy my loved one, who I have not known for long enough to be able to get certain things.  I walk, calmly up the street.  Not hurrying but not idling either. The rain, straight down, as Milan rain is.

My first shop is a disaster.  I thought they would have scented candles but, no!  Still, I have about an hour.  I should be able to find the stuff I need in that time.

I love it.  The place is almost busy but the tills are almost empty.  It’s a fabulous time to be doing Christmas shopping.  I thought it was only for V because V was easy and I could walk into shops and know, within seconds, if there was anything that was suitable.  But I find that this is not so difficult.  I am limited only in what I can buy, but what I can buy there is enough of and so choosing is not so difficult.

I find everything that I had thought of whilst walking.  They’re not big things and some are not at all expensive (downright cheap, actually) but perfect – or, as perfect as they can be.

I am happy.  It is the only bit of Christmas shopping I have done but I think I might do this every year!

I go to the supermarket for (I think) one last thing.  F calls me.  He wants to change the arrangements.  He thinks (and he is right) it will be easier to stay at mine tonight.  That’s what we’re going to do.  This makes it easier for me and gives me this chance to enjoy a hot cup of Tetley’s tea before showering and getting ready.  On the way back from the supermarket I go, on the off chance, to a shop to buy the perfect, small, irrelevant but perfect gift.  Yep, this was the best way of shopping for Christmas.  And without any stress or hassle.

I have to wrap the presents in a moment but that won’t take long either.  I hope he likes the things even if some of them are quite stupid.  Still, they were bought with love.

I have decided I will call V tomorrow.  Just to wish him Happy Christmas after our exchange of emails today.  I think I owe him that.  And, maybe, to find out how his Yorkshire Puddings turned out – I had sent the recipe by email, since I have the cookbook it was in.

But that is an aside, since, really, this Christmas belongs to F.  Well, for me anyway.  And, I very much hope, for him too.

Special all the same.

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In spite of the snow, the Christmas lights along Corso Buenos Aires, the Christmas decorations in the shop windows, the milling and rushing of shoppers buying their gifts, etc., it really doesn’t feel like Christmas to me.

Sure, I can talk about it here, at work, but I am struck by how unexcited I am.  OK that’s been more or less true for the last few years, I suppose.  This year, I have some excuse.  We’ve been together for too short a time to really be able to plan, to decide on things, to build up to Christmas.

I’m not sure what to expect; I don’t know how it should be; I can’t impose my Christmas (not that I want to impose it anyway) and we’re in a different country with different ideas about how it should be, sort of.

We did talk last night, a little, about Christmas Day and New year and so on.  He was talking about decorating the table for Christmas Lunch.  Anyway, this sort of thing was always V rather than me, so from that point of view, it will be much the same.  However, there’s been a lack of involvement from me in the lead up to this year’s Christmas.

It’s not that I’ve wanted to be uninvolved.  It’s just that I’ve not known exactly how it would be or what we would do, other than being together.

Last night I told him I’d bought Brussels sprouts – even if I know he won’t eat them.  He understood why.  This morning, my colleague, S, said that she had seen Nigella Lawson on the TV (I had told her about NL) and that she had done some strange things – like Bread Sauce.  Which made me think that I should do Bread Sauce anyway, as I love it – even if he won’t like it because, even if I love it, most people don’t.

I might even make the usual white sauce although this will be with panettone rather than Christmas Pudding.  Maybe I’ll suggest it?  It’s an alternative to cream or ice cream and will make the Christmas lunch just a little more like Christmas for me.

He’s planned some films that we could watch.  And, since we both like films, it could be good.  One film he said he had chosen we could watch in either Italian with English subtitles or English with Italian subtitles.

He suggested that we could spend New Year with some of my friends.  He doesn’t want to do the New Year that has been planned by his friends.  Really, I would like to do ‘something’ but I’m really not sure as I really like when we are together.  But, of course, that’s because it’s all too new.

This morning, as I left the house he asked if I had remembered the keys and would I lock the door on my way out.  Later, on FB chat, he asked if we were spending tonight at his or mine.  I replied that I would prefer mine as tomorrow night we will be at his.  He said OK.  It’s sometimes very easy.  It’s often, very comfortable.  It’s always very nice.

I am looking forward to Christmas even if, at the moment it all seems a little at arms length.  This comes, in part, of not having any history to go with it.  But, then, it’s the first and, so, will be special all the same.