Tag Archives: Restaurants

Saying yes and deciding no; sharing – perhaps not

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Saying yes and deciding no sharing perhaps not

I’m an internet person. Italy is not, really, an internet country. I like a lot of what Italy has to offer but there are some things that Italy does not do so well, such as getting things done without a ton of paperwork; roast beef; lamb; sticking to the rules; not sticking to the rules; personal space; etc.

FfI is being so kind and helping me a lot.

She arrives at my home and we look on the internet. We make calls. We call the nice flat and the flat-on-the-perfect-street and some others.

We go for something to eat. We visit flats. We visit the nice flat. There is someone else interested. What seemed quite a big flat is suddenly quite a small flat but I don’t want to lose out and my friend really likes it (she hasn’t seen the flat-on-the-perfect-street yet).

We (I) agree to take it. I have to meet the woman on Monday night to start the contract thing. I suddenly don’t want it at all. It’s too small; it’s too far out of town; it has no character; I can’t picture my furniture in it. In fact, it’s only really redeeming feature is that it is available now (almost) and every fitting is new. But, I question, what if the flat-on-the-perfect-street (which is a bit smaller) is actually not good when I next see it? FfI and I are going on Monday night, just before I meet this woman.

After: FfI thinks it was much smaller and devoid of character as well.

We go to see another flat. In an area I don’t really know so well. The pictures make it look like some sort of penthouse. And, it has a terrace!

It’s tiny and wood everywhere. Although it has large windows the wood everywhere makes it seem dark. It’s awkwardly laid out. The terrace is huge but, obviously not used by the current tenant. There is no oven but he’s going to get a combi-oven. Hmm. I don’t really like him.

The clincher is the dogs. In answer to the question there is no doubt. No. My mind has already removed it from my list, in spite of the terrace, but now it is erased completely.

We decide to go for a pizza but end up at the Mexican. We like the Mexican. The food is superb. It’s Piedra del Sol, near Repubblica. They do great tequila cocktails. Without V being there and wanting more than 1 (or 4 or 5) the meal turned out to be so reasonably priced! We did share a main course as, normally, it is far too much for one and most of it taken home in a doggy bag. It was just right.

Today we went to a very nice flat just off Corso Buenos Aries. Like the one I had agreed to take but much more central and for the same price, more or less. Then to another near to the one I had agreed to take. It’s a definite. It’s too far out. I will call her tomorrow to say I’ve changed my mind.

So now CBA has taken over as the one that is up against the flat-on-the-perfect-street. Tomorrow night we go to see (together) flat-on-the-perfect-street and then another which is on three floors. Personally, I think it’s either CBA or flat-on-the-perfect-street.

Decisions have to be made.

Then, as we’re walking back from the other too-far-out-flat to the American Donut Café (we planned brunch) we pass a block that we both said that we would like to live in, very close to where I live now. There was one for rent. More or less the size of the one I live in now but one less bedroom. So FfI suggested living together >I’m not sure that would be perfect. I think she would get fed up with the dust from the dogs pretty damn quick. Plus she has some habits that, as a lover, I could probably cope with – as just a friend would probably have me killing her within a couple of weeks (or, even, days), even if I do love her to bits!

If it was the right price, it would be nice but…..

We shall see. Enough of looking at flats. I just want to be in somewhere and start getting back to normal even if it is the new normal (whatever that may be).

The Florist makes Pizza and other slightly crazy things

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We’re deciding where to go for a pizza. We will be driving.

He said, ‘I know a great pizza place in a flower shop’.

I say, incredulously, ‘in a flower shop?’

‘Well,’ he responds, ‘it’s a very big flower shop’.

‘So, more like a garden centre?’ I ask.

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The future’s bright, the future’s what colour?; It’s life, Jim, but not as we know it.

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The future. Unless you have kids and are thinking of their future, the future must, inevitably, include you. And this makes it a very fragile thing that only exists in your own head.

For, if we are not in the future, then the future that you thought in your head doesn’t and will not exist.

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Eating month-old panettone will protect your throat; More snow

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Today is the Saint’s Day for Saint Biagio. I learnt about this because, apparently, in order to protect yourself from problems with your throat, one should eat some panettone from Christmas.

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The Rose Sellers of Milan

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From the comments on the previous post, I felt it was time I spoke about the rose sellers on Milan’s streets.

Italy, as you probably know, has very porous borders and illegal immigration is a big problem, here. This, in spite of the fact, that, as a throw-back (or so I believe) from the fascist era, everyone is required to carry identity documents with them at all times and show to any policeman, if requested – and we have a lot of policemen around and about.

Still, it seems that illegal immigrants are everywhere. Of course, having got here, they have to support themselves in some way. It seems that many people from eastern Europe become restaurant waiters or openly beg in the streets; people from the Philippines/Indonesia areas become cleaners/nurses; people from Africa sell bags/belts/CDs on the street; the Chinese work in China town or as cooks in restaurants and, people from the Indian sub-continent sell jewellery on the street or roses.

And it’s the last category that I want to talk about. They come out, generally at night, as that is when most people are out dining for pleasure. They carry a bunch of roses – about 10 to 15, long stemmed in a single colour (red, pink, blue) and they sometimes sport an instamatic camera.

They are, from what I can tell, given an area to work. I don’t know whether they buy the roses or are given them. Either way, they must have to sell a certain number or they have no money/get beaten/something else. They are persistent. As smoking is, generally, not allowed in restaurants and many people here still seem to smoke, it is common practice for small groups of people to leave the restaurant during the meal to get their nicotine fix. These are the people first approached by the rose sellers. The rose sellers proffer their roses by pushing them right under the potential punters nose. Usually the man but sometimes the woman. They don’t move. A ‘No, grazie’ doesn’t seem to put them off. In fact, they are quite happy to stay there, smiling and, if they have the camera round their neck, proffering the camera to explain that they can take a picture of you with the rose. They are likely to proffer the rose more than once and often will not depart until you show signs of obvious irritation or, even, anger.

Some restaurants let them enter and some restaurants don’t. For the ones that don’t, they will, sometimes, risk the wrath of the owner by going in anyway before being chased out.

Obviously, the best places are the more touristy areas. I guess these places are saved for the best ‘agents’.

So the real question is – should you buy a rose or not? If, by buying the rose, you are perpetuating this problem, shouldn’t you NOT buy a rose? I know someone that will always give them the €2 (or whatever the amount is) and not take the rose. Some time ago, I made the decision never to buy and I never do but I do feel a little guilty, knowing that they have to earn some money somehow. And I do feel somewhat sorry for them. It’s hard enough being a legal immigrant somewhere without having the illegality of it all to the problem AND having to work watching the rich people (comparatively speaking) enjoy an evening out – and all you want is to sell them a rose for a couple of Euro.

Incidentally, I often see them holding the bunch upside down under the many drinking fountains to keep them looking fresh. Be assured that these roses will be lucky to last the night let alone any longer. And, for goodness sake, don’t do what a friend once did – buy the whole bunch for his wife. This enraged the restaurant owner who, probably, wasn’t happy with them hanging around in the first place.

Please, don’t go to sleep on the floor whilst flying.

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Swiss, formerly Swiss Air, is an airline I like to fly with. As I was in charge of the booking of our trip to Wolverhampton, I chose not only Swiss to fly with but also the Novotel in Wolverhampton to stay at.

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Post 200; Mongolian Barbeque and other food for the weekend; Clowny WILL be a real word!

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Well, first, this is the 200th (published) post!* Considering I have been doing this blog for a number of years, 200 doesn’t seem that much. But it is some sort of milestone, I guess.

My 2nd week back at work and, the weekend just gone was also back to normal, if not busier.

Friday we were supposed to go and see FfI, who had the really bad accident at the end of July. However, she was on new drugs and very groggy so it was rearranged for Saturday. Then, on Saturday morning, A texted to suggest the Mongolian Barbeque restaurant. We agreed. So it was, kind of, apero at FfI’s about 5, then 9.30 we were at the Mongolian Barbeque. What a great place.

We had starters, which were “pick your own”. I chose a few small meatballs with a gravy with some roast potatoes and, incredibly, they tasted just like faggots. Now I really love faggots – you know, Brains – and we can’t get them here, so I was delighted to taste these.

Then we went up, selected our raw meat and then gave it to the cooks to griddle. And it all tasted superb. All this for a fixed price of €18. Great value for money. Even better for Sunday Lunch where the fixed price is €12. It doesn’t include drink but it’s still not bad.

The only thing to remember is that, should you not eat everything on your plate that you have chosen, they make a surcharge of between €5-10! Can’t say I blame them really as it ensures that people don’t just pile their plate and leave a load of stuff to be thrown away. However, this is a bit of a struggle for V who, as normal with free food, takes much more than he needs – and then can’t eat it! So he spent a while trying to convince everyone else to take some. Luckily, there was A – who is more like a human dustbin!!

Anyway, the food was very, very good and the experience of queuing up and watching your food being cooked, is also good. Worth checking out. It’s on Via Monte Nero in Milan, should you choose to go. Do book as it’s very popular.

Sunday was a really nice brunch with N followed by a surprise visit by friends from the UK who were catching flights back today. For the price of a nice Indian meal they stayed with us. And it was great to see them.

V was explaining about Dino to them, with the usual, ‘I never wanted another dog’ and he actually said ‘he does many clowny things!’. Now, I’m not sure why he said it. Nobody picked up on it and I said nothing. Maybe he remembered the word when we played scrabble that time with S & P. The story is that, in order to get a decent score, I made up the word and, although P, in particular, was sure it was a made-up word, no-one challenged me officially for fear of losing a go.

I made a very good explanation of why it was a real word, even though I knew that it probably wasn’t.

Anyway, now that V has said it to others, I’m sure that, in a few years, it will enter the dictionary and become a real word. And, when it does, you will know that I invented it!

It seems a perfect end to my 200th post, don’t you think?

* Unfortunately, not any more. I have deleted some posts since the move here. This is probably somewhere around the 195th post now.