Tag Archives: Outside Italy

Make-your-own Chicken and Mushroom Pie – don’t look at the contents and it really IS very tasty.

Posted on by
Reply

Make your own Chicken and Mushroom Pie

Whilst away, on business, we were taken to the client’s canteen for lunch. Canteens are canteens – never the best food in the world but this one, whilst nowhere near as good as ours is OK, although the food can be a bit odd sometimes.

We walk in and the main course is, what can only be described as, the results of someone having been very very, very ill.  Globby, congealed, pale and, to be frank, quite sickening to look at.

Our hosts showed us how it was done. Next to the grey/light-brown ‘mess’ were some ‘fancy’ pastry cases. You took one or two of these and filled each with the sickening gloop which, I was told was chicken.

But, then I tasted it. I realised it had been some time since I had eaten Chicken and Mushroom Pie where the pie crust was make from flaky pastry. It used to be quite a favourite of mine although we never saw it served like this, of course.

But, to be honest, providing you didn’t really look at what you were eating, it was really nice. Served with peas, which was always the perfect accompaniment!

And then I realised that ‘pies’ of any sort don’t seem to be that common here, it Italy. I mean things like Steak Pie, Steak and Kidney Pie, Chicken Pies, in fact, most pies really don’t exist. Strange, isn’t it?

My own private jet….and airport…..and security……. aka the joys of travelling these days.

Posted on by
2

My_own_private_jet_and_airport_and_security_aka_the_joys_of_travelling_these_days

I remember, 10 or 15 years ago, travelling, for me, was still exciting and pleasurable. There was the thrill of the flight as I really love flying; the fun of having an expense account and being able to eat and drink, more or less, as I wanted; the prestige of being one of those ‘business travellers’ that you see or hear about.

Continue reading →

When a town is not a town

Posted on by
Reply

It was last weekend when I went. It has the word ‘town’ in its name so, I thought, it must actually be a town. Seems reasonable to me. Being an ‘outlet’ town, I was expecting something similar to Bicester Village, Vicolungo or Serravalle.

I don’t really like them, as you may remember but this was one of the first in this area and is in Switzerland and, travelling by road, to and from the UK, I have passed it many times.

In fact, it’s only just past Como, so immediately, one thinks of beauty with the backdrop of the Alps.

And, as it was so famous, I did want to see it. It’s less than an hour from Milan and easy to get to (Motorway all the way unless you don’t want to pay the annual motorway fee in Switzerland.

Apart from the fact that it rained all day; we weren’t high enough to see snow-capped mountains; and the place itself – it was wonderful.

So, why didn’t I like it? Well, it’s not a town. It’s called Fox Town but, really, it’s a shopping centre (or mall, to you Americans). And a very ugly one at that. Everything seems Italian (the language, the people) except the currency which is Swiss Francs. The prices are not so cheap for the fact that it’s stuff that’s already out of fashion – certainly no cheaper than Vicolungo or Serravalle, although on the plus side, the guy assistant in Iceberg was rather cute.

Overall, much more of a disappointment than I thought would be possible. And then, back in Milan and my umbrella was ‘borrowed’.

To be honest, if it’s a nice day, I would prefer one of the other outlet centres, should you be visiting here and insist on doing outlet shopping.

Rude? Embarrassing? Both?

Posted on by
4

There have been some great, well-respected leaders in the world.  Clinton, whatever the Americans thought of him and, in spite of his infamous non-sex episode, was well respected.  Bush, unfortunately, was seen as a bit of an ass.  I can’t speak for British leaders as I am British and, therefore, have a biased view, although, from what I can tell and from conversations I have had here, Margaret Thatcher was also well-respected (in spite of the damage she did to the country).

When we are in meetings, it is quite common for the meeting to be interrupted by a phone call to someone, whether it be personal or work, people here answer it as if, whatever they are doing, is completely unimportant and the phone call is a matter of life and death.

If you visit someone at their desk and a call comes to their desk phone, even in the middle of their conversation with you, the phone call will take precedence.

At first, it was frustrating but now, I guess I am used to it.  It is, therefore, no surprise to pick this up from the BBC site.

And, whereas it is no surprise, I cannot believe that an Italian, at the highest level can be so bloody rude.  It doesn’t matter what the call was about.  It would have been easy, as the car stopped, to say he would call back in five minutes and, once inside, out of the glare of the cameras, he could have continued the conversation.  The only good reason for continuing it and keeping Merkel waiting was if his wife was about to give birth or someone was dying.

And for me, if a British leader did that I would be embarrassed for Britons and my country as a whole.

And the whole incident comes almost straight after acting like a hooligan at a football match, shouting Obama’s name at a reception held by the Queen.

Hmm.  I thank goodness I am not Italian for I would certainly, after the phone call thing, be hanging my head in shame.  I don’t care who you are, you don’t keep a head of state waiting and, certainly, head of state or not, a lady.

Irrational Feelings?

Posted on by
8

I have a fear of certain places, as I have mentioned before. Hospitals are one, where, I just can’t get it out of my head that, if I enter, someone will spot I have some dread disease and I will never leave.

Another, probably worse, is prison. I have never visited a prison and, I truly hope, never will – either as an inmate or a visitor.

So, when I heard that a colleague is in prison, in a foreign country, there is a sick feeling in my stomach. I feel for him and I am frightened for him. It was the first day of his holiday there. From what I can tell, he has been in prison for two days now. He must feel very lonely being thousands of miles from home and, although he can speak English well, it must be difficult for him (typical British understatement).

If it were me I would be so scared. And then I think what if it were V or someone who is really close? How would I cope with it all? I cannot even imagine the horror of it if it were me. His family are struggling at the moment and I feel for them too but for him, he must feel in the middle of some nightmare and wishing he would wake up. I really hope, with all my heart, that it’s all over very quickly and he is back home soon.

Let’s talk about Net; It’s hardly working; Still, ‘no’ won’t come out of my mouth

Posted on by
2

Lets_talk_about_Net_Its_hardly_working_Still_no_wont_come_out_of_my_mouth

You have to sing the title to the tune of “Let’s talk about sex!”, if you see what I mean. At least, that was what was going through my head as I thought of the title.

Firstly, sorry to those of you who couldn’t read my blog yesterday. There was going to be a post but at about 9.30 a.m. or so our time, my blog went off-line. There then followed a slightly bizarre exchange of comments between me and the hosters of this site – 000webhost.

It started off OK. Instead of saying that the website was down, which is what I usually do, because I knew it was something to do with the database, I went for that instead.

They replied that I would have to upgrade if I wanted help with scripts. I didn’t as that wasn’t the problem. But then I had to go into more lengthy explanations as to why it was down.

Eventually, at about 3 in the afternoon they came back with “it will be fixed very shortly”.

By the time I got home and got my creaky, old laptop up and running, it had been about 3 hours. I rated this as a reasonable time to start asking again.

I got the reply that “it can take up to two hours”. Now I know that this is hosted somewhere where English is not a first language and it is completely free, so I feel I have to cut them a bit of slack. And, having taught English as a Second Language, I am aware of the way that something can be miss-said. So, I didn’t go mad but thought that, perhaps, what they really meant was that it might take up to another 2 hours. I responded to clarify my thinking.

It seems I was right. But the reply was a typical, non-mother-tongue-English speaker, using the word hardly instead of hard. It happens a lot here too. The response included the line “Our head admin is hardly working on it”. It makes me laugh every time. At work or with friends I do, gently, correct them. For those of you who are Italian it should read “Our head admin are working hard on it” or, even better, “Our head admin are working very hard on it”; hardly being very little – almost nothing and hard being very much.

So, this is being written at home and I may get it up there tonight but, probably, it will be tomorrow (i.e. Saturday).

So, I apologise for being off-line but that’s life and the hosting people are, overall, one of the best free hosters I’ve come across. I am toying with the idea of paying for it and moving more sites there but I will wait a little longer.

In other news, you’ve probably read about the British arm of Google/You Tube cutting off the supply to premium British content over the wrangling about how much they pay the artists. Now, in my opinion, there are pros and cons for both sides. However, the Music Industry need to get real. If you can’t find it on You Tube, because it’s been blocked, the obvious place to go is one of the more illegal download places – and then the Music Industry lose the money all together. It all seems a bit crazy to me. A little like the Luddites from the past. I realise that someone has to work out a new model but burying your head in the sand is just not the way.

And, as I suspected, I was asked something else – not the same as before (and that question may, even, still be open) – but very, very similar. Of course, I could not refuse but it makes me very, very nervous. And, of course, if I get let down again, this time, it will make things much more difficult in the future but, at least, I shall be more likely to say ‘no’, I guess.

Well, if it all goes horribly wrong then I shall, no doubt, lose my new flat and then I am likely to be very angry. However, all things being equal, I sign up a week on Tuesday and move in on the 15th of next month. I can’t wait! It will be home, at last, in a country that should feel home (and does, when I’m away from it), rather than a place of transience.

Tonight (or last night as you read this) we are off to FfI’s for a supper and drinks. It should be nice.

Update: Up early this morning. Worried about the question asked. The things that need to be done. There’s a lot of reliance on me; a lot of trust that I need to have but is, sadly, lacking. And yet, still I can’t say “no”. Damn!

Being David Bowie!

Posted on by
4

The other day, at work, G asked me:

“Do you like David Bowie?”
“Yes,” I replied, “Why?”
“Because you look a bit like him.”

Now, for me, David Bowie, throughout his life, has been one of the most handsome men I have ever seen. There is something about him that oozes style.

I don’t really think I look anything like him but I was chuffed with the compliment, all the same.

Sweating (and acting) like a pig; spring, maybe?; Friday the 13th

Posted on by
2

I’m sorry. I’m sure I do not have perfect habits (in fact, I know I have not) but, certain things I do not do in public and, certainly, not in an office I share with my colleagues.

I do not, even if I am hot and sweating, lift my arms up to smell underneath my armpits. I don’t do it once, let alone several times whilst my colleagues, even if they are at their computers and not looking at me directly, cannot help but see me out of the corner of their eyes. Nor would I exclaim at the same time that I was sweating with a slightly disgusted tone to my voice.

Having said that, the weather, today, is rather superb. There is not a cloud in the sky and it is quite warm in the sun although there is a breeze (you probably wouldn’t even notice the breeze in the UK) and the wind is cold. However, it is supposed to continue like this for a few days yet, so that is rather fantastic.

On another subject, for you lot in the UK and the USA, I guess, today is that dreaded day FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH. Here, it has no real meaning and so, although it crosses my mind, fleetingly, it really isn’t something to worry about. Instead, here, the bad day is the 17th. Also, a black cat crossing the road in front of you is unlucky. Now, S, should any of the bad Italian things happen to her, checks with me to see if it is bad in the UK. If not (like the black cat thing) then she chooses to believe the English version. I must admit that I lied, once, to her when she broke a mirror, saying that, in the UK, it did not mean bad luck. It made her happy anyway. It seems some superstitions are the same after all.