Tag Archives: Food

Whoops, sorry …………

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Yes, I know. I’ve been very remiss. I mean, it’s been almost 10 days since my last post.

There are a load of posts half-written but I just didn’t get the time to finish them off.

Best Mate came and went. We had a lovely time. Went to Venice one of the days and sat in the hot sunshine at a very nice restaurant in a little square at the back of the Duomo. F & I agree that Venice is, for us, the most romantic city in the world (that we know).

Best Mate left two days before the fun started with the volcano and the no-flights-to-almost-anywhere.

Unfortunately, the Paris colleague of F didn’t and learnt, on her way to the airport in a taxi that the flights to Paris were stopping. And, so, she’s been staying at F’s flat whilst F has been staying with me. She re-booked and re-booked and, eventually, this morning we got tickets for a train on Monday (the next available seats) and then she took today’s train – just like loads of other people, judging by the number of people sitting on cases (since all seating must be pre-booked here – at least for the decent services).

Obviously, F (and I when I wasn’t working) entertained her but she was so sweet. We had a good time. Last night we met up with L (another colleague of F’s) and her husband, L and another colleague, M and went out to Puro e Semplice where I had the best quail I have had in a long time. Not a cheap restaurant, done in the modern, simple, kinda rustic style but really excellent food. F had a cottaletta Milanese which I tried and was also fantastic. We had beer and that was wonderful too.

And I say it was really good in spite of eating out nearly all the time for, what seems, about 2 weeks and, to be honest, I am getting a bit fed up with it (words I thought I would never write!). Too much food, too much drink ……. too fat! Or, at least, that’s how I feel.

The upshot being that, even if I were rich or worked as a restaurant critic, the odd day with something really simple at home would be a must.

In other news, F has been taking the ‘babies’ (as he calls them) out quite often for walks now that they are clean and tidy.

OK so this will have to be short because I’ve just seen the time and we are off out (again) this evening with an ex-colleague who is over here from the UK for a couple of weeks, her husband and A, who has been (it would seem) abandoned by Fr who is in the south of Italy (and given that Milan airspace is closed, may be down there for a few extra days longer than expected).

Monday we were due to have an important meeting with customers from the USA but I guess that won’t happen now and so, Monday, maybe, I’ll get more chance to write up stuff.

For sure …….. maybe.

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He doesn’t want to talk about it.  He doesn’t want me to come.  I took Lola’s advice (thanks Lola) and asked.  I think he appreciated the thought but then said he doesn’t want to talk about Friday.

He doesn’t want me to come to Tuscany, either.  Well, actually I don’t know that he doesn’t.  Anyway, it’s probably a good thing not to go.  Too many difficulties in that.  This all needs to be a more gentle introduction.  I am being too selfish.

And, yet………

It’s not like he’s pushing me away.  He’s just stubborn – even more than me.  He’s already told me that when he’s ill he doesn’t even want anyone in the house, let alone looking after him.

He’s a strange guy, for sure.

Last night we went to see a film – Mine Vaganti.  This was a really difficult one for me as all the talking was very fast and, although I had already got the plot from the internet, I missed out on some of the jokes, of course.

Then we went for a pizza at Le Specialità  .  We were with a colleague of his and her husband.  They raved about the pizza but, at €14 plus for a pizza with ham, I thought it was overpriced – about double what I would normally expect to pay – and although all the ingredients were obviously fresh, it was not worth the doubling of the price.

Still, a nice evening and at least I did understand the film, more or less (although it was all a bit ‘done before’).

On the way home he mentions about going to his parents and that he hadn’t really made up his mind.  He added that it was six months since he last saw them.  I said that he should go – that he had to go, kicking myself inwardly as I said it.  But it’s true.  He must/should go.  By doing it this weekend we keep Easter free for us.  He explained the excuse he would give for going down this weekend rather than Easter.  It would seem that he wants to spend Easter with me.  Maybe we go to the lake or for a day out or two and lunch in a restaurant.

Either way, I think he wants to and doesn’t want to go – in as much as he wants to spend the time with me.  I think.  I hope.

Cold; snow.

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18/03/10

There is snow, deep snow, everywhere. They say that this is not normally the case. By now, apparently, it should all be gone. But it’s piled deeply at the sides of the road and paths.

Last night, as we walked around the old town part of the capital city we were so cold. It was so cold. It was worse, even, after dinner and so we just went back to the hotel.

Anyway, I’ve been here before when it was somewhat warmer and so I didn’t need to see it again.

The meal was good. The service nice. The prices high.

Still, I couldn’t live here even if, for most of my teenage life it was my dream to come and live here! I say that but, of course, I could live there, if it was really necessary.

But, then, I already live in the place I want to live.

I am so fortunate

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“And we have to go to Vienna in April.  To party and for the funeral.”

“If you want to come”, he adds.

It may seem incongruous – party and funeral in the same sentence but I totally understand.  I question only why it is such a long time away.  He doesn’t know.  I try to explain that, perhaps, rather than a funeral it is a memorial service.  He says no but I think this is definitely lost in translation.  Surely you can’t have the funeral over a month after the death?

B had asked before that what we were intending to do for Easter.  Someone else had asked me before that, during the day.  I said, as I had said earlier, that we hadn’t talked about it.

“I might have to go to my parents'”, he says.

As I do, I said “OK”, not asking if I could come but wanting to.  I curb my tongue all the time.  My head say ‘Don’t Assume Anything’ and so I keep silent.

“You can come, if you like”, he adds.  Of course, what I want to say is something like ‘Of course I want to come.  Wild horses nor the devil himself couldn’t keep me from coming’.

“That would be nice”, I actually say, “but what about the dogs?  Can they come too?”.  He thinks about it.  “Yes, they can come too”.  It will be a family trip :-D

Of course, it may not happen.  I know that.  But it’s the thought that’s nice.  And, when I told a colleague this morning, she made the comment that I was going to be ‘introduced’ which, of course, I would be.  Not as his boyfriend or partner but just as his friend.  Just like his ex was, who, I found out when I met S the other week, still sends Christmas cards to them and they still ask after him.  But they don’t ‘know’.  He’s told me why and that’s OK.  I suspect they know but not asking directly means that nothing is confirmed and everyone lives in their cosy world without the need to ‘know’ everything.  Hey, this is his family and how he handles it is up to him just as how I handle mine is up to me.

“Was it love at first sight?”, B had asked, earlier still.  No, it wasn’t ‘love’.  He said that it wasn’t for him.  I didn’t think it was but when B had been asking about how we got together, it became a bit of a blur and I could only remember certain things.  And, so, I’m reading over the posts I wrote at that time.  This blogging thing is really useful :-D.

And, no, it wasn’t ‘love’ at first sight.  But it was something.  I had forgotten that he didn’t kiss other guys, generally, he had said, and certainly not on the first date.  And, yet, he had come over to me and kissed me.  He said, last night, that it was after several glasses of wine.  Well, a couple maybe.  But there must have been something, even for him.  I know I was confused as to how I felt (having read my entries) but it quickly developed into knowing the something; of having the Karl Spark.

He is sweet and I adore him.  I had texted him with B & my last minute plans for a meal and asked if he could come.  I said I would understand if he couldn’t.  He phoned me and we were already in the restaurant and on our starter.  He said he had just finished work and was tired.  I said that I understood and it was no problem but it would be nice if he could come.  He said he would come.

I know that he did it for me and for him.  For me because he knows how important B is to me and how I always am ready to meet the people he wants me to meet and also for him because I have spoken of B often and he wants to meet my friends.  He wants to see N&S before they leave too.  As soon as he finishes his trips (next week and the week after), perhaps?

And, yes, it curtailed our (B and my) conversation a bit.  But I did so want them to meet.

And then he came back to mine  He went to bed and was asleep before I got to bed, as he hasn’t slept well in the last couple of nights.  He got up late (10.30) but at least he slept a bit last night even if he did wake up in the night.  I woke up at 4 because my alarm went off.  Actually, it didn’t go off, messages came through and I had forgotten to change the phone to phone only.  And so, partly because of that and partly because the phone light was flashing, warning me that it was on a very low battery, and I always worry about not being woken up by the alarm, I found it difficult to return to sleep and, instead, I watched him and listened to his snoring and loved him even if, because he was too hot and so was I, we didn’t touch.  So, because of the snoring, I knew he slept some.

And, this morning, as I left him, he was asleep again, and I kissed him on his forehead and, unusually, he didn’t wake and, instead, we chatted through Facebook when he got up.

And I said that B had said he was lovely and asked about us going to Rome and he was all for it (in the same way that he was all for going to Pallanza) and I said that we would go after Carrara and Vienna and he said OK, that would be good.

And, reading back on my blog entries I realise that, although maybe not love at first sight, it was certainly something and almost at first sight and I realise again that I am so fortunate to have found him.

It’s a very good feeling

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No, I was wrong.  This wasn’t Bunch but, most definitely Brunch.

Her husband (I presume) was from American stock and so there was bacon, scrambled eggs (with, because the husband was American, Heinz Tomato Sauce) and pancakes with maple syrup.  She also baked – blueberry muffins, carrot cake that was almost like ginger cake, a fruit cake (that reminded me of my mother’s rock cake) and raspberry jam tart!  Mmmmmm!  Delicious.

Most of the conversation was in Italian but it wasn’t too bad.  As I’ve recently said to Man of Roma in the post On Being British, my understanding of Italian improves.  The hostess was particularly kind when she found out that I didn’t understand perfectly saying that the few words I had spoken were perfectly pronounced and so she thought I spoke Italian.  It made me smile.

As did F, who, when we are together, doesn’t show affection so often but when we are out, touches me more (rubs my knee, strokes my leg, holds my hand, kisses me (although not today)) and in such a way that it is genuinely affectionate.  I know he loves me.

I was introduced as his findanzata.  I like that.

I watched him during the conversations.  He has such a way about him, such style, such a good conversationist, so friendly, so instantly likeable.  I got the small pastries that we were taking and went round to his flat before we went for brunch.  He was getting dressed.  At that stage he wore a white shirt and underpants.  So very sexy.

We walked back to his house with his colleague who had also been at the brunch.  I followed behind them sometimes, when the pavement was too narrow for three abreast, and noticed the back of his neck or, rather, the nape where his hair fanned out (though it is short) almost like an upside down peacock’s tail.  So sweet.  And I wanted to kiss it there and then.

But that’s for later when he comes round.  Now I should be making the bed, washing up the few things, putting the house in order.  His idea to come round.  He misses the babies (the dogs to you and I).  Especially Dino who loves him, probably, only slightly less than he loves Dino.

Yep, I like being his findanzata.  It’s a very good feeling.

Brunch or Bunch

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I was chatting with a colleague who was complaining about the cost of Brunch at this particular place in Milan.

The problem, we worked out, was that Italians have taken the word ‘Brunch’ and applied it (and an increased price) to a meal that can only be described as a buffet lunch rather than a (very) late breakfast, which was what Brunch devolved from.

F had told me, last week, that he was going to brunch with his landlady. It will be an all-Italian affair and, therefore, best described as a buffet lunch or Bunch. He told me that this Bunch would be Sunday (tomorrow).

Then, a few days later, he asked me to come. I’m not entirely sure why. I hesitate to say it’s because he wants me there but it does seem like that. I am going as his friend or findanzato – I’m not sure which. But I’m going anyway – and pleased to go because, in spite of my hesitation, I think it is because he wants me there; he wants us to do things together. It’s just that he doesn’t explain that very well.

It’s like now, as I write this. He had a headache earlier and went to bed. He rang because, although he feels better, he still feels a bit rotten. I don’t know whether he wants me there or not. So I said I would come round – if he would like. Eventually he said that he would like and so, when I’ve finished this, I will have a shower and go round, returning to do the dogs later.

And then we shall stay at his place. We went to IKEA this morning and he was looking for pillows as we need to be higher to watch the television. As he was buying some special pillows he asked me if this was what I wanted – ‘because one of them is mine and the other is yours’.

But, in spite of all the signals he gives, I remain unsure and, as a result, don’t push. In fact, I rather ‘hold back’. I don’t know. Is it right or should I be more forceful with what I want? Am I just being a pushover? And will that turn him away?

Ah well, tomorrow is brunch (or bunch). Either way, we shall be together and, whatever the signals, I like it a lot that we’re together.

It seemed a good idea at the time

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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!

Last Night and Today

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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.

In which Dino learns to be a real little bastard

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I’m sitting in the bedroom on my computer.

I have been there for about an hour.

I go to the kitchen to make a cup of tea and notice, as I go through the lounge, that the latest DVD I received by post is on the floor and not on the footstool.  I pick it up, idly thinking that I thought it had still been in it’s cardboard wrapper.

It had been.  The cardboard wrapper is now in pieces in the dog basket in the kitchen.  At this point I also notice that there is the wrapper from a bar of chocolate (which had also been on the footstool) in the basket too.  The silver paper, almost intact, is on the floor.  I let out an involuntary ‘Oh, nooooo!’, at which point Dino slinks away, head down, tail between his legs.  I know it’s him and worry only about the fact that he’s not supposed to eat chocolate.

That was Sunday.

This morning, I sit by the computer for only 15 minutes, drinking my coffee.  When I arrive in the kitchen to wash my mug, I see, in the dog basket, two Videos and the remains of the back pages of the IKEA catalogue.  Then, as I am picking it out of the basket, I see also the remains of the Baci (chocolates) box.  Then I see a half opened, half eaten box of dates.

All these had been on the footstool in the lounge and it must have been the first thing he went for when we returned from our walk.

And, today, the cleaner will be in.  And I left the shortcake biscuits on the footstool.  And the cleaner won’t know that Dino is not searching for things on there.  I am resigned to there being no shortcake biscuits in the lounge now.

This, of course, has to be stopped.

Unless, like it was for Rufus when we still had Ben, we find that it is not the puppy but the older dog wot dun it!

But, somehow, I doubt it.

So, now, I have to put something to tempt him and watch carefully in order to stop it – before it becomes an automatic habit.  Damn!

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.