The Great Panecone and Full-English Breakfast

The café is almost like a bar in a pub. An old-fashioned bar. The fixed, wooden bench with the high back hugs the wall all the way around. The ‘bar’ is wooden too. Nice, old wood. The tables are large and rectangular and, would you believe it, wooden. The floor is wooden without carpet. It’s all well scrubbed – spotlessly clean.

The feeling is warm. The sun shines in through the windows and it is bright inside, in spite of all that wood. The espresso machine, behind the bar, gives a delicious smell to the whole place. The staff are, in the main, dressed in white.

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Alcohol helps my Italian (apparently)

Last night we went to a great house party held by a colleague of V’s.  I did have a little too much red wine but didn’t realise that until I woke up this morning.  Luckily, I don’t, generally, suffer from hangovers so I just felt a little sick.  However, the party was FUN!  And I spoke more Italian than normal and even had some sort of debate with some guy, who’s standing in the upcoming elections here, from some new communist party.  Well, I say debate – he didn’t speak English and, now that I know I was quite tipsy, God knows what I actually said to him.

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Dancing in the street; “The best espresso this side of Milan”

More on our trip to the UK.

I have mentioned this before but it was particularly noticeable as I haven’t been back to the UK for a while.

People here, in Milan (and maybe the whole of Italy), walk just like they drive. There is no forward planning and manoeuvres are made at the last minute and only if absolutely necessary. Except that, the difference between people and cars is that, if you bump into another car with your vehicle there will be a lot of time spent sorting out the insurance; shouting and screaming at each other with a lot of gesturing; many years of paying extra for your insurance.

Bumping into people does not cause any of those things. So, as a result, people manoeuvre a lot less when walking and there is a lot of bumping. And, more importantly for the people from the UK – no apologising!

Whilst in the Scottish city, we had spent a couple of hours walking round the shops and dancing in the street – by that, I mean the little two-step dance whilst trying to avoid other people.

I asked V if he had noticed that, in all the time we had been walking, not once had anyone so much as brushed past us. He replied that he hadn’t but that now I had mentioned it, it was true. It was so pleasant. I must admit that, having been here for almost 4 years now, I no longer apologise when bumped into or even when I bump into someone else. It has taken all this time and a great deal of personal resolve to stop saying ‘sorry’. There is a way of walking here that means head up, stare straight ahead, ignore the fact that the person is approaching you without any intention of moving slightly out of your way and, if they are much bigger than you, only move slightly to one side at the very last possible moment. If there is any physical contact, whatever you do, DO NOT say ‘sorry’ – after all, it’s their fault for being in your way.

But it was so nice to stroll around without having bruises at the end!

I did drink a lot of tea whilst there and it was very, very nice. But I did miss the Italian coffee. So, whilst out, we saw a Café Nero and decided to go in and have the ‘real Italian coffee’ that they purported to sell.

Of course, here, a café latte is not taken so often and, certainly, is not as big as the Café Nero ‘regular’ let alone ‘large’. However, we were in the UK so a large café latte seemed in order.

Maybe it’s the water; or the coffee; or the milk – whatever it was, it did not make it particularly nice. And I very much doubt (although I didn’t try it, so I can’t be sure) that their espresso is not the best this side of Milan. After all, we have quite an area of Italy between Milan and the French border and, I can assure you, coffee in any part of Italy is superb.

I do remember that, when we still had the flat in Hay and returned to help out at the festival 3 years ago, we brought our moka back with us along with a supply of coffee so that we could make our morning fix.

Hearing from old friends; Sunday Lunch; the Sales in Milan

It was nice to hear that M & B had had a nice time visiting A in Canada. Here, we have fireworks making all the noise and there, they have pots and pans being banged and car horns blaring. Seems like it’s only the UK that celebrates New Year more quietly (although I am aware that, these days, there are more fireworks than there used to be).

Friends are starting to arrive back from their celebrations in the South (or Paris, for some). So this weekend was doing some catching up with some friends. Saturday, V was working so we only went out in the evening but, yesterday, we did Sunday Lunch for some friends and eat the Christmas Pudding that V had been given, as Christmas Day we had gone out for lunch.

The Sunday Lunch started at just after 2 p.m. and finished (with a short shopping break) at about 11.30 p.m. This is the way Sunday Lunch should be. Long, leisurely affairs; much food (Roast Beef, Yorkshire Pudding, Horseraddish Sauce, etc.; Christmas Pudding and Brandy Sauce; Cheese) and some very good wine. And, although we drank quite a lot, because it was spread over so many hours, it didn’t cause us to suffer at all.

V wanted me to get a shirt (like one of the ones I gave as a present to V for Christmas) – but now it’s the Sales (they started on Saturday). I knew the shop (TerraNova) was in Via Torino but V informed me that they also had a shop on Corso Buenos Aires. So, I braved the rain (for it was truly miserable) to walk up there. When I got there, having dodged the many umbrellas, carried by short people but unaware, it seemed, that their umbrellas can only be described as lethal weapons and the general Italian way of not seeming to see you (i.e. they just keep on walking quite unconcerned that bumping into you or not moving out of the way is NOT acceptable to English people), I found that this shop only sold half the stuff of the other one. And although I was only out of the house about 20 minutes in total I really had had enough, so texted that I was sorry but I just couldn’t do it.

I am not a fan of shopping at the best of times but, in miserable weather, crowds of people and sales – it’s just pure torture for me.

According to S (with whom I work and is a bit of a bargain hunter – worse than V), the time to hit the Sales here, in Milan is the first weekend and then the last few days (in about a month’s time). The first few days allow you to get the best stuff and then it’s all rubbish until the last few days when the best bargains (i.e. the most discount is applied) are to be found.

So, if you were thinking of coming over for the Sales, I suggest you wait, now, until the end of January/beginning of February.

Jalapeno Pigs; Typical British Cuisine (Not); Puppies or Magnum

The entry on this blog for 4th November has GOT to be the funniest I have read. In particular the conversation with the drunken customer about the pizzas (or, more correctly, pizze) and, more specifically, this bit:

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Busking – who gets your money – the DJ or the Baroness?

Mantova, Saturday, 8th September.

We decide to have a drink at a bar. It’s very warm and we want to sit outside. As we walk towards the centre, we look up a side street, we see a bar with an empty table. It’s not an ideal position as there aren’t many people to watch walk by – it’s a quiet side street – and people-watching is one of our favourite pastimes. However, the beer’s the thing.

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In Conversation with Christopher Hitchens

Mantova, Festivaletteratura.- The last Sunday.

Peter Florence (Hay Festival) was there and we spent some pleasant hours with him on Friday and Saturday. He was doing a couple of the events, interviewing some people. But, from the moment that I looked at the site, Christopher Hitchens was the one event that I was not going to miss. It was just after lunch on the final day. Peter was going to be interviewing him (rather him than me). We hadn’t seen Peter since late on Saturday night (after my experience of playing chess with Boris). We got up late, wandered around town for a bit and, as we were travelling back to Milan later, decided that a proper lunch would be a good thing. We went to Griffone Bianco, our favourite restaurant in Mantova

Obviously it was busy – very busy. However, this year, M had bought us (with L from Hay and Juan Hose from Spain) a meal there on the Thursday night and when she was paying I went up to remonstrate with her about her paying the bill and was introduced to the guy behind the desk, who runs the place, and she was telling me they were great friends.

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A heavy weekend; too much to drink; too tired; SLTG

This was started on Monday, but I never finished it, I’m afraid. So:

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Too late for the visitor, drinking ‘culture’ and violence, sushi, don’t tell the foreigner.

There you go!  I missed my visitor from Oregon.  Checking my stats this morning – they didn’t visit last night.  Oh well, they will probably never know that the post below was really for them.

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