Tag Archives: Restaurants

St Valentine’s Night

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Last night we went to the Taverna della Lamparo.

We chose it because of all the restaurants we go to fairly regularly, it is the most romantic. The lighting is low, not bright like Italian restaurants tend to be; it is small, perhaps serving 30-odd people; the tables are big, there is plenty of room and the tables are well spaced out.

Also, the food is superb. OK so we only have fish there although they do have a very small selection of meat dishes but I had prawns with leeks to start with, hot, tasty – no, actually divine. I could have had a bigger portion as the main dish! For the main course, I had, as normal, the parcel of branzino (sea bass) with, in the parcel, potatoes, tomatoes, capers and olives. It was truly great, as always. F had his usual of thinly sliced raw tuna with raw fennel to start and then a sesame coated tuna steak, seared, on a bed of some vegetables.

For sweet we both had the apple strudel with a hot chocolate sauce. To drink we had a bottle of white wine (lighea) which is lovely and then to finish a glass of mirto each.

F had bought me a present. It was a beautiful key ring (from his shop). I had got him nothing, the window men having been much more than a couple of hours doing my windows and doors and then me having to wait for the washing machine.

I had bought him some white tulips the day before as these are his favourite flowers but I had nothing to give him. So, as I was paying for the meal, I bought a bottle of the lighea wine (as you cannot buy it in supermarkets or off-licences). It wasn’t as good as getting him a real present but, together with the tulips, I think it was OK.

We walked back. tomorrow I must start my non-diet again!

He went to bed and put the television on and I walked the dogs. I came back and told him I was going to have a glass of milk and then come to bed. 10 minutes later, I came to bed. He was propped up with one of my pillows in addition to his own, television remote control in hand, seemingly watching TV. One arm was round Dino who was lying next to him.

“I’m going to need my pillow back”, I said, laughing.

There was no response. As I got into bed, I realised that he was asleep. I reached over and took the remote control from his hand and switched off the TV. As I turned round, he woke up so I grabbed my pillow and we both settled down for a particularly quiet sleep, the double-glazed windows keeping out more sound, I am sure.

I adore him, you know?

It’s very cold ……. with no windows; The Smart Box night away.

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Excuse me for this but it is fucking freezing!

The men are here replacing the external doors, windows and shutters. When they said they were going to start in January I did think they were a bit mad. Of course, it wouldn’t be so cold if I were working like them but I am here only to make sure that Rufus doesn’t run off somewhere and Dino doesn’t spend all his time in their way and trying to lick them.

And they have completed the kitchen so we are here and I am typing on the computer and my hands feel numb and it is difficult to type. One of the many disadvantages to smoking, I guess – your circulation is not shit-hot.

I’ve lost the beautiful handles, of course. But the windows look good and, one hopes, the whole flat will be much warmer – after today. They are (and I’ve just got up to check) double glazed and I am very happy about that. During the time they have been here (three and a half hours so far), there have been three people from other flats in the building, coming to them to tell them that one or more of their windows/doors don’t work correctly. I only hope they do mine properly as this would be much more difficult for me to do – what with my bad Italian and the fact that I work all day – leaving before they arrive and coming home after they have gone :-(

Still, they are tidy and the finish they have done is good. There will be no need to re-paint everything afterwards. But the bonus is (I hope) that it will be warmer in the flat.

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Well, what can I say? The weekend (really 24 hours) away was lovely. But let’s get the bad things over and done with. The ‘hotel’ was a bit basic and the room was almost unbearably hot (although, as I write this I wish I was there and not here). The restaurant was at ‘their other place’ which was a fifteen minute drive away. The food was OK but not really amazing. The weather on Sunday was miserable so that we came straight home and did not go somewhere for a few hours – like Pavia – which I had thought we might do. In spite of there being no dogs to take out, we both had a fairly restless night (the heat of the room, the noise of the church bell which rang out at seven to call the faithful to mass on Sunday morning). The town (Pinarolo Po) we stayed in was a bit of a one-horse town. The place with the restaurant (Borgo Priolo) was a collection of houses – and the agriturismo. The place we went to because we were too early for the restaurant (Casteggio) was, to be honest, quite boring and not a ‘pretty Italian town’ like we had hoped.

So, the things that were good? Well, first of all we were away from home. It means we spend more time together and, you know, I do so enjoy that? It was very relaxing. We got to the hotel and were met by a fat version of Riff Raff (from the Rocky Horror Picture Show) at the desk. He was one of those people who don’t go grey, as such. His hair, shoulder length, was that dirty yellow colour, as if he had been in smoke-filled rooms all his life. We got our key, went to our room and had a little relax. Even a little snooze. Then got up and got ready and went to find the restaurant. My navigator is really fantastic. Except for one thing. It makes it easy to find somewhere but, I think, you miss out on finding those ‘unexpected’ places. The route is always one which is ‘main’ roads and I wonder if we don’t miss out on some hidden gem. Also, it meant that I didn’t research the area. So I have no idea if there was somewhere else to go. Maybe Voghera would have been nice to go to for a couple of hours? In future, I must look before we travel so that I have a better idea of what’s around the area.

Anyway, we found the restaurant and there was nothing around. Anyway, it was already dark. We had an hour or so to kill and so we went to a nearby town we had noticed on the way there. This was Casteggio. Casteggio has a huge square in the centre, given up to a car park, as one often sees. We walked around. We both wondered how the shops could possibly survive. There were so few people around. There were shops without customers. F, being a visual merchandiser, commented on how the clothes shops had everything in the window. Too much stuff. But, then, this was not Milan and these were, in general, not designer shops.

We wandered around. There was nothing. We went past a tobacconist and F decided to get a lottery ticket.

“I won a thousand Euro”, he said, all excitedly. I suppose I almost ignored him as the statement was incredible. He showed me the ticket. Indeed, he had won. But not a thousand as he said.

He repeated, “I won a hundred Euro”. Of course, now it made more sense. Sometimes, when you buy a ticket, you win some money. For my regular readers, you may remember I won €5 one time. He had indeed won €100! This was going to pay for our whole evening.

We went to a coffee/bakery shop to ‘celebrate’. We had a drink (non-alcoholic) and some snacky, savoury things. We walked around a bit more but it was, frankly, quite boring. We went back to the restaurant and went in.

This was an agriturismo. The menu was set. There was a bottle of red wine on the table (which was lovely), we had water and they came and poured us a glass of their own spumante (like champagne); to start with a plate of what looked like home-made bread (but was something called tartine – bread with bits in it). Then a plate of meats. The salame was very nice. Then a small selection of pickled onions, mushrooms and a sauce thing made with red peppers, carrots and vegetables. Along with real home-made bread. Very nice.

Next up was pasta, made by them, from wholemeal flour – so, brown. The first was some pasta like ravioli but heart-shaped – it being the Saturday of Valentine. then some short pasta with a mushroom sauce. They came back with seconds of the Valentine pasta – so I had a couple more.

Then we had some Roast Beef (as they call it) Very thin slices of cold roasted beef – done very rare, as they do here. If you don’t compare it to English roast beef then it is lovely. No vegetables or accompaniments, of course, we are in Italy. After that came some pork – except that, really, it was a slice of roasted gammon. F wouldn’t eat his so I had his too. Then they came back with seconds of the roast beef – and it seemed rude to refuse. I had decided anyway that my non-dieting would cease this weekend. Then a sweet which was a fruit tart with a little custard on the side (crema, here). With the sweet was a glass of moscato and then coffee. We were both stuffed. The food was nice but not spectacular. But for €75 (you see how the €100 win paid for the night?) for two, it was very good value and the food was good and a lot.

The night, as I said, was restless. The room was far too hot. And then there was the clanging (for it was not a pleasant, sweet sound) of the church bell at seven.

So much for the dogs not waking us in the morning. We dozed on and off and then at about 9, I got up anyway.

Outside, the glorious and surprisingly warm days of the previous week had been replaced with a drizzly mist. We are in the Po valley, of course. And it was now cold, I suppose as it should be in the middle of February.

We breakfasted. They seemed surprised by my request for a glass of cold milk. So much so that we had to ask twice. Riff Raff was there helping serving the breakfasts.

We packed and were out of the hotel by 10.30 and on our way back to Milan driving through the fog and, kind of, grateful to be going home. But we had a nice time and it’s times like these I feel closer to F and I do like that.

As for the package, the Smart Box? It’s a great idea and, if only we had booked it sooner, we could have chosen the hotel we wanted and it may have been nicer. I would consider buying one for someone else – maybe the gastronomic package?

No Diet – Day four and other things.

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Well, that was all rather lovely.

But first I must thank all of you for kindly answering my call after I shamelessly prostituted myself for comments. I no longer feel quite so gay knowing that straight men like Mars bars too :-D.

On to last night. B was up in Milan and so we went to Sento as I predicted and wanted. It has been so long since I had sushi and it was divine. Even now I can picture the boat of bright red, pale pink and white fish laid on that particularly nice bit of sushi rice.

And I had the grilled beef. The wine was lovely – dry, crisp, white wine. Sake to finish. Sparkling water and sparkling company. B did seem so well and I was so happy to see her. We even made tentative plans to all go up to Pallanza for the weekend of Easter. Yay! Since last night I have checked with F who is also keen on this idea as long as it includes the bambini, of course and the opportunity to play cards.

Of course, as last night was all Japanese food, none of it is fattening in any way and so I already feel slimmer :-D

We talked and talked. Actually, as is usual with B, it felt that I did most of the talking …… again. She also came up, beforehand, to see the dogs, especially Rufus who has always been her favourite.

We also talked a little about V and I explained about the defriending on Facebook and so on. I explained that I was disappointed, which is true ……… now. I admitted to being a bit angry at first. After so long together, how DARE he just cut me off! But now I am just very disappointed.

And she talked about how she searched for her old boyfriends again – after all, if you were with someone for however long, they meant something, they had something that was attractive and one should never let that just disappear. And I’m with her on that. Perhaps I should make a little more of an effort to get in touch with M?

So, I just broke off to do just that!

And, for reasons that escape me (although it may have been seeing B last night or knowing that we’re going away this weekend or the fact that it’s Valentine’s Day on Monday), I feel incredibly happy. Which is in direct contrast to last week!

And so, I wish you all a very good weekend too. I hope you’re doing something special too :-)

What a load of tripe!

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I’ve never tried it but imagine for a moment that you have taken the foam from a cushion, cut it into small pieces, boiled it for a bit, added some tomato sauce and some beans and maybe a bit of veg and seasoning.

That’s almost the same as eating tripe (the way they did it today in the canteen).

It doesn’t sound really scrumptious, does it?  But, actually, it’s not so bad.  I guess it’s ‘poor man’s food’, really.  But Italians have strange likes, as I have mentioned before.

I thought (but didn’t say) that there is no way it would be offered as a main course in any British canteen, even the ones up North!

Today I did not have a bread roll.  It’s the new regime.  The one that is not a diet but is going back to how I used to eat.  You see, I’m getting fat.

Of course, if I say that to people around me they pooh pooh the idea.  they tell me I’m not fat.  And it’s true, depending on the standard your using to measure it.

However, 3 broken jeans (in the last 2 weeks) testify differently and I would rather go by those than by people’s comments.  Unless, of course, it’s the jeans that have shrunk!

So, I need to lose a little weight.  I was trying to think of things I have been eating differently to, say, 12 months ago.

One thing was eating a bread roll with lunch.  And, then, probably, eating too much lunch altogether.  So I’m cutting down.  Less pasta, less main course and no bread roll.

Then there’s the evening.  recently I’ve got into the habit of having a Mars bar (or 3) with my evening tea.  So that has to stop too.

I will see how it goes.  I may have to give something else up too.  Perhaps beer, for a bit anyway. Drink wine instead, perhaps?

Hmm.  It’s not good.  I don’t ‘do’ dieting – this is my equivalent.  I think it may work although I will probably be out on Wednesday and Thursday for meals and then Saturday we go away for a night (and some eating) and then Monday we go for a meal too.  Thinking about it, maybe, this week I should even skip the pasta at lunch? :-(

Weather, washing, whinging

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“It was too hot”.

This was in reply to my “It was lovely weather but still too cold”.

Don’t ever think that as British, we hold the monopoly on complaining about the weather. We just have ‘more’ of it. Here, the weather is never right. It’s always too cold or too hot or too rainy or too much snow (well, this time last year, anyway). The only thing it rarely is (and so rarely complained about), is too windy.

I have a sneaking suspicion that every country is, more or less, the same.

When I replied that we still had to wear coats, the original quote was qualified with “Yes but it’s too hot for February”. There’s just no pleasing people.

And it was a rather splendid weekend (apart from the coats thing). The sun shone and it was almost too warm (outside my flat anyway) for a hat. Almost but not quite. If I was a truly British person I would, given the weather, have been out in shorts and a T-shirt!

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It seems that my washing machine has all but had it. It doesn’t always spin. And, anyway, when it does spin it sounds like I also put a load of boulders in with the wash. It’s so loud that I am unable to hear anyone on the phone unless I move to the bedroom.

So I went to have a look for some over the weekend.

I was expecting to pay between €200 and €300 so I was a bit shocked when there really wasn’t anything below €400. Damn! But I AM NOT going back to hand washing and so, this week, I must just bite the bullet and get one. I don’t really want a crap one so you have to pay more than €400 but I could do without it right now. Damn again! And then, this year or next year I suppose, will be a fridge.

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I feel better than I felt on Saturday.

Just thought you should know.

Perhaps I should apologise to A for being a miserable bastard when we went out on Friday night? We went to K2. I think I should revise my feelings about K2 as it really was quite good.

Well, they’re fashion people of some sort, I suppose (but how would I know?)

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Well, I guess that I should be telling you about meeting some of the good and the great of the fashion industry.

Except that, apart from them all appearing to be very rich, I haven’t the faintest clue who they were. There were some fat men. There were some, ahem, ladies past their prime. There was a hat designer who came late, sporting a hat that (for those of you from the UK) would be best suited on some working class, washerwoman – a lot in the style of the wife of Andy Capp or, even, not unlike the way that Hilda Ogden used to be dressed on Coronation Street (but without the rollers in her hair).

Some woman, of a certain age (which was, actually, very uncertain – but O L D nonetheless), with a bright orange bouffant but very thinning hair-do and a very pale complexion caused either by her being very ill or by her applying a whitening mask to hide the liver spots, which, by the way, was unsuccessful, thought that the hat was wonderful. She is like Anna Wintour, apparently. Everyone had to agree with her even if they, secretly hated it (and, certainly, the few people around me DID hate it).

Some woman next to me kept jabbering at me in Italian. I understood some of it. We had a conversation …… of sorts. F says sorry to me for having to be somewhere where everyone is speaking Italian. I tell him not to worry and that, if it becomes a problem, I will tell him.

I was there, after all, not for my pleasure, exactly but to be introduced (or should it be ‘shown off’) to some friends of his.

“It will be very fashion”, he tells be beforehand. Everyone will be from the fashion world. Although, as it turned out, there was also C, Fi’s husband and he’s NOT fashion but a chef. These were the people with whom we were supposed to spend Christmas and New Year. Apparently, they had organised a special party for New Year, in F’s honour. He is their ‘jewel’, so I was told.

I am to like P, even if I don’t like her. She is part owner of a rather large business in Italy. She has a house in Venice. And a ‘Guest House’ nearby. This Guest House is lavish and huge, apparently. F wants to take me there. P says that she doesn’t like Venice apart from going there a couple of days every so often. I don’t say it but for me it is the most romantic city in the world. It beats Paris, hands down.

We are at a ‘chic’ restaurant. Ristorante da Gaspare. I won’t link to it as it would be unfair. I am led to believe it is expensive. We had some antipasto of shrimps and clams. Some pizze and foccia. And then the biggest branzino I’ve ever seen was wheeled to our table – then taken away to be served up in smaller dishes so that we could help ourselves.

I don’t know how much was paid but I think it was a lot. The branzino was wonderful – but I didn’t get much. Nor did most other people (except the fat bloke almost opposite me – which explains his fatness, I would think). A couple of people had sweets. I tried one. It wasn’t up to much. The rest of it I could take or leave, really.

The atmosphere was great – for the people we were with. The place itself lacked atmosphere being bright and more like a canteen. I’m sure the fish was very fresh but it wasn’t really anything special.

Fi and C were lovely. They bought presents – for us for Christmas – some stone dogs which, apparently, in Austria (or in one town/village in Austria anyway) people put outside their houses to warn people that they have a dog. It was sweet of them. There was one for me and one for F. F pointed out that, if we put them outside our front door they would be nicked. Fi hadn’t thought of that. There was also a special cake for F’s birthday. Bless them. They think the world of him, I can tell. I think I passed the test :-) I think they liked me.

They were all nice people, really. Even the small fat guy who, if I hadn’t been told he was married – with a grown-up son – I would have placed as being the most gay of all gay people at that table (there was only F and I). He wore, round his neck, a black scarf – no, more like a shawl – with beads round the edge. It was more feminine than all of the ladies at the table! His wife was lovely.

F told me that the lady wearing the Missoni dress was a journalist. Married to the old guy with the pin stripe at the other end of the table. I’m guessing he was ‘something’ in fashion. I was more amazed that it was a Missoni dress. It looked much like something you could pick up in a junk shop – something from the 70s. I didn’t say anything. F surprises me sometimes and he obviously has a great deal of knowledge about his industry – but doesn’t say anything to me, much.

Before the event, though, he did say that, as it was very ‘fashion’ I should dress accordingly. I dressed in my normal ‘smart’ way – as I would for any night out with friends, or, even him! I don’t know whether that was right or not. He doesn’t ever tell me and I don’t want to ask.

We are, apparently, to meet up for an evening out with P. She seems nice although with her head somewhere else half the time. Still, I don’t dislike her and she is a good friend of F’s – or maybe Fi’s – I’m not really sure.

Fi didn’t really stop talking. She is almost as bad as F’s sister! We are to go there in May or something, when the weather is better. And, probably, after Rufus has left us.

This morning I took F to the airport. He is away for 11 days. I can’t wait for him to be back ……. already!!!

p.s. below is a clip where Jennifer Saunders is wearing almost the same hat as I mentioned above – except hers is a dark colour and this one, the other night was bright pink! Enjoy the clip anyway, it is very funny.

French and Saunders version of The Exorcist!

F’s Birthday and stuff

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Well, further to my post below, Rufus seems much better. Ain’t it always the way? But I know better than to assume that he will remain this way for long.

Last night we went to Giacomo – it was F’s birthday. I had raw scampi to start (and some of F’s raw tuna) and branzino (sea bass) with artichokes as a main. F had the mixed raw fish to start and then a cooked tuna steak (he loves tuna and has it whenever he can). A nice bottle of wine, some mirto and then home.

This being a restaurant that is, as F would say, very fashion, there are the great and the good of Milan and many of the rich tourists or others who are here for business. In this case, there was a model who, apparently, used to work for Helmut Lang. However, I didn’t even recognise the name. Apparently, Giacomo has opened a new restaurant near Piazza Duomo, with views over the city. We are to go there for my birthday, I am advised :-).

Yesterday, I went to see FfC and go out for lunch. She is getting ready to return to work next week after months off whilst she had a baby. The baby is about 7 months old now. He is big. She suggested he looks like his father and asked me what I thought. As I’ve said before, babies, to me, just look like babies and not like either of the parents or anyone else for that matter. So that’s what I said.

Then, later, after we had been out for lunch, she was sitting on one of the sofas opposite me and the baby waved at me. Apparently they’ve been trying to get him to wave for a while so she was delighted that he had, finally, done it. She was going to phone R, the father, as soon as I had gone, to tell him.

She told me, during lunch, that she had, really, given up on the idea that she would become a mother and that was when she found herself pregnant. Maybe there’s a thing about trying too hard. We also spoke about FfI. FfI went back to her home country for Christmas and New Year. She planned to spend Christmas with her family and then New Year with her daughter who is in another part of the country. Her common line is ‘I hate Milan’, quickly followed by ‘I want to go back to my country’. I always thought – well, go then!

I email her to wish her a happy New Year. She emails me back to tell me that she cried every day (and that everyone except her one brother, she had fights with), she spent New Year’s Eve in a motel room all alone and that she was cold and miserable and couldn’t wait to get back to Milan. She also promised that she would never say that she hated Milan again. We shall see. To be honest, I feel sorry for her. What a dreadful way to spend Christmas and New Year! But FfC and I were talking (and we have much the same views on most things) and agreed that it’s really important to be ‘happy’ with what you have and where you are.

Milan may not be the most beautiful city in the world, nor with the best climate but it has charm and a character of it’s own. Without coming to Milan there are so many experiences that I simply would not have experienced, both good and bad, things that I would not have enjoyed and have made my life richer and more fulfilled as a result. Of course, the main thing is that I would not have met F and, for that, I would never want to change the past because it is the past that has led me here and to this point.

We also spoke (FfC and I) about V. She was quite disappointed when he didn’t turn up one evening because he was shopping for a new outfit for Christmas, after she had prepared food and everything – and he didn’t even text or phone but relied on FfI to tell her. It made me so grateful that I am no longer responsible, in any way, for him. I explained to her that my thinking on the reasons why he had, effectively, cut me off from his life was that (and I learned this from FfI) he had been telling the new boyfriend that ‘the breakup had left him with so much debt’. She was as incredulous as I had been. But it is his way and if I were too close, there would be questions from other people which would lead me to tell the truth and the truth would not be what he wanted others to hear. Ah well. At least, now, I can understand the reason even if it’s a poor one. I remember telling him, when there was the previous boyfriend – ‘don’t lie about stuff’. For lying always, at some point, bites you in the ass further down the line. But, with him, he always seems to get away with it. He is, as FfC says – always being ‘fabulous’. Fabulousness is all about show and does not necessarily have any substance. And it’s so true of him. I just hope that the fabulousness doesn’t wear off any time.

Some restaurants I should have mentioned

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Of course, since the ‘tidy up’ of the kitchen, I am no longer ‘allowed’ to have random bits of paper on the kitchen table, near the computer. I had moved it all, temporarily, to my chair in the bedroom and today, whilst sorting out (and putting away) the Christmas presents, I also sorted the bits of paper.

Amongst the things I ‘found’ were some cards from various restaurants I have visited in the last few months. Unfortunately, for one of them, my mind is a bit hazy as to exactly what I had – but that’s OK. I still have the impression from them all.

So, the first one (and oldest re: visit) that I have is Kapuziner Platz in der Stadt. This is the one in Viale Monte Nero. This is a German ‘pub’. The beer is, erm, German. The food is, erm, German (with an Italian touch, of course). Unfortunately I have forgotten what I had. I know F had a cottoletta milanese (wiener schnitzel). I suppose I had lamb – or beef. Anyway, the place is nice, the food was good (not fantastic but good) and I seem to remember it was reasonably priced.

The second one was Momà  Restaurant. The only link I could find was one through Facebook. We went there with Al and R and a friend of theirs. The meal was wonderful. OK, so it’s not so cheap but the antipasto (including burrato) was very, very good and the meat (Al and I shared a plate of meat) was fantastic. The wine we had with it was exceptional. One word of warning – don’t have antipasto and primo and secondo. The portions were very generous and to have all three would mean you would be unable to leave the table! I would go back there in a second.

The final one is outside Milan, in the ‘Hinterland’. And, unfortunately, this was dreadful. This was lunchtime and is in the town where I work. We had gone in on a public holiday to do some stuff and, for lunch, went here (as there’s not so much choice). It’s supposed to be good and, I have to admit, I have been there before when it seemed OK. This time, however, it was awful. The restaurant is Papillon. They’re supposed to have their own website (it says on the card) but it doesn’t work. A little like the restaurant. We all had pizza. Mine was (to be on the safe side) Diavola – with spicy salami. It wasn’t the very worst I’ve tasted – but it was close. The service was so slow and people who came in after us got served before us and, for what we had it’s expensive. Avoid it like the plague!

There – now I can put these cards away too :-D

How old are you?; Inside a Lava Lamp; Cooking and DIY; Rufus; Oh, yes, and I win the lottery

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Miserable bloody weather that it was ….. and still is.

We get the day off on the 1st November. Some catholic thing about the day of the dead. To me, it’s a holiday. And, at a really stupid time of year! I mean, October/November? I ask you, why?

And so, from Saturday night, it rained. And rained. And rained. And rained. Well, you get the idea. It was grim with a capital ‘G’. After today it will be fine …….. until Saturday, when it’s forecast to …..piss down with rain!

Still, it meant, more or less, a weekend at home. We had been offered a trip to the Turin area and lunch at some restaurant. F didn’t really want to go. He doesn’t like the bad weather either, really. Anyway, the trip was to be Sunday when the forecast said it would rain all day (which it did, more or less), so F cancelled our ‘booking’. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Friday.

A (his Milanese friend who lives in London) called. We were going to go for for an aperitivo at Polpetta (see link at side). He was just waiting for her to call when she was on her way. He phones/texts me about 9 to say they are on their way and would pick me up (since I live 2 seconds from Polpetta). On our walk there it is decided that we shall skip the aperitivo and go straight for the Pizza at Liù, which is just across the road from Polpetta.

Whilst we are eating, I get a call from M. M is F’s colleague and the second one I ever met. She speaks English at about the same level as I did before I moved here – if not worse. She is sweet and loveable and we get on really well, in spite of the language which, after a few beers, is not a barrier. She drinks like a fish (or like a cow, as F would say). Before I answer, I say to F that it is strange, her calling me (they are almost best friends, after all). I answer.

“How old are you?”, she asks in a clearly drunken stupor. There is someone (I guess L, their other friend) in the background shouting stuff at her. I know what she means. “I’m very well, thanks”, I reply. She talks some more. I understand nothing. I pass the phone to F.

It seems they are at some bar and want us to join them. The husbands/partners are watching football. M rang me rather than F because she knows F too well and knew he might not answer the phone :-). C is there too as her husband, Ma, who is English, is with the men watching the football.

After our meal we walk up to the Atomic Bar. They are waiting outside. F had told me, on the way there, that when he and S got together, they used to go there a lot. There are a lot of English people that go there. I cannot beat the description on the link – ‘Like hanging out inside a lava lamp”! We have a couple of beers. Ma joins us after the football. The music is too loud and I cannot hear people well, who, in any event, are all talking in Italian. I stand no chance. Plus, I am tired. We leave sometime after midnight, just after it starts to liven up a bit. Rather than English, I would say it is frequented by a lot of students. I am old enough to be their grandfather – not that I care but the loud music and stuff, although good, doesn’t fit well with how tired I am. I am glad to go.

Saturday.

The man came to put the cupboards up in the bathroom. These were the cupboards I bought from IKEA a few weeks ago. I assembled the cupboards but wasn’t quite confident to put them up – although, before I had assembled them I was so confident in my head. I mean, how difficult could it possibly be?

Well, apparently, quite difficult. As I watched him heave them up and there being a lot of cazzoing, I thought that, actually, I had been somewhat crazy to even imagine that I could have done this myself …… on my own! And he even had all the right tools! He looked at my light but couldn’t fix it (so I called the electrician – who may be there on Friday) and looked at my shutters in the bedroom (one of them wouldn’t close) and did fix that, sort of. But the important thing is that it now closes and (almost) opens.

Then, as I had arranged with F, we went to buy my new cooker. I had gone two weeks previously and found the one that I quite liked. It’s all gas, which is my preference but wider and slightly deeper than the current one but, more importantly than anything else, does not just have High, Low and Off but rather gas marks! I can’t wait. I shall be able to cook things properly with much less guessing. Anyway, Saturday was the last day for the offer for free delivery and free fitting which, with gas, is a must. Not really a DIY thing at all, especially for me! Also, the nice thing was that they will deliver on Friday! So I can plan a meal.

Saturday night we went to A’s place. F2 was there too although they are still not really ‘together’. F talks so much. Afterwards I said that he didn’t have to do so much talking. He replied that if he didn’t there would be nobody talking. I think this is not true but I think it is also when he is a bit nervous. The food was great, as usual. It started to rain just after we got there. And almost hasn’t stopped since. We left quite early as I was still tired.

Sunday.

The clocks went back. It means an extra hour in bed. Well, it would mean an extra hour – unless you have small children or dogs. I have dogs. The dogs didn’t put their clocks back. Plus Rufus is ill. I know this will mean a diarrhea mess in the kitchen, even if we do get up quite early. He can’t help it, of course. It does mean exactly that. We take them for a walk after I clean up. It is only spitting but, even so, we bypass the dog walking area – it is too wet and muddy for that. F didn’t have a good night. I did – it just wasn’t long enough.

He wants me to do Crumble again. This time I will do apple and blackberry. He also wants Shepherd’s Pie (as he calls it for, really, it should be Cottage Pie). He also wants carrots the way that A did them last night. I also want to try the Roasted Tomato Soup that I made a few weeks ago.

He goes home and I go shopping. They don’t have fresh Thyme, so I get dried. I forget to get bread (which I realise when it is too late). I get everything else I need. The supermarket (Carrefour in Via Modena) closes just as I am getting the last couple of things – which explains why it is so quiet in there – but this makes it a million times better than going to Esselunga, where I would have had to fight to get round and then queue up for about half an hour at the tills. I even manage to get a bus as I get to Via Castel Morrone! I am very happy.

I start the cooking when I get back. I think the tomato soup will be too much, so one tomato is omitted. I put too much black pepper on them (as I find out later). The Apple And Blackberry Crumble is both easy and will be fine, even if I don’t know how to get cooking apples, so it may be a little too sweet. The Shepherd’s Pie will be huge. I have just the perfect glass dish for it.

I am doing the Blackberry and Apple Crumble, the soup has been done and the Shepherd’s Pie is in the oven when there is the sound of a small explosion and steam comes from the cooker! Shit, I think to myself. I open the door of the oven. There is a lot of steam and hissing and the flames of the gas fire are yellow and bigger than they should be. It takes me a moment or two to realise that the glass was obviously not oven-proof as I had thought and has split. Shepherd’s Pie filling is all over the bottom of the oven. I turn the oven off and carefully lift out the remains of the glass dish. I put it on the side and the gravy starts dribbling nicely down the ‘curtain’ and onto the floor. Hmmmph! I think about it for a moment. Luckily, the glass has cracked (and come off) only on two of the corners. I can rescue most of it. Of course, to be certain I don’t have any glass in the part I am going to rescue, I need to leave quite a lot behind. However, there will be enough for the two of us for a couple of days, even now. I try to clean a very hot oven. Not very well but enough (I hope) to allow me to continue. Ah, well, the cooker goes away on Friday so who cares?

I have moved my computer into the kitchen, on to the kitchen table, since I need the internet to see the recipes. It works much better than me having to traipse from the kitchen to the lounge and trying to remember the next couple of steps. Also, I can listen to music or watch a film or something whilst I am cooking.

The plan is to eat early. I feel like I have been on my feet all day by the time F arrives at about 7.30. We sit down at 8. The meal is great apart from, slightly too much black pepper in the soup. The Shepherd’s Pie is the best I have ever done. The Apple and Blackberry Crumble is fantastic with whipped cream. I am very pleased. So is F. I decide I’m going to try Swiss Steak (a winter favourite of mine) and hope that he will eat the meat. I think I may try it at the weekend with my new cooker.

We play cards a bit, watch some TV, I take the dogs out (in the rain – did I mention that it rained almost ALL weekend?) and we go to sleep.

Monday (we are on holiday).

I am woken by, what seems to be, Rufus’ last breath. He has, what can best be described as, a very bad cold. It seems he is struggling to breathe. It wakes me up. It is 2.30 a.m. The long drawing of breath so loud as to wake me in the first place. I get up to check he’s OK. He’s OK but this is the second time in the last few days that this has happened. I worry that it’s not just a cold. I think that, just now, there seems to be something wrong nearly every week. He is very, very thin at his back end. When you rub his back you can feel every bone as if they are speed humps in the road. I decide to get up and have a drink. I go to the kitchen where, now, the computer is. I clean up the mess from Rufus. I have a drink and look at the computer. I chat with someone who is online through Facebook. They tell me to go back to bed. I do. I awake again just before 9. It is still raining.

F gets up to take the dogs out on a short walk. Short because it is still raining. Meanwhile, I clean up the mess from Rufus. I wonder when this will end. F has suggested that we won’t go to Austria for Christmas and New Year whilst Rufus is like this. I mean, whilst Rufus is alive. F says that he hopes he isn’t here when Rufus dies. I don’t tell him that, in all probability, it will be my choice and that I will take him to the vet, so he won’t see it anyway. I know that he won’t come. That’s OK. I worry that, just a little, I feel that I almost ‘want’ Rufus to go or get so bad that he has to go – just so I can go to Austria for Christmas. It makes me feel very guilty. But then, last night (well at 2.30 a.m.), I think that, anyway, it won’t be long.

However, I remember feeling just as guilty before, with Ben, while we were waiting for him to go before we came to Italy. That made me feel guilty too. In the end, I did it at the right time and I know I will do the same again. I won’t do it just to be away for Christmas – it doesn’t stop me feeling guilty though.

F goes home after breakfast. I sit in the kitchen, in front of the computer for a bit. Then I decide to clean the oven. It makes me feel much better. At least, when they take it away on Friday, it won’t be so bad and they won’t think me such a scumbag for having a dirty cooker! Then I sit at the computer a bit as some washing is doing. Then I decide to put up the new coat hanger I bought at the same time as I bought the table and which has been sitting in the hallway …… waiting for me to put it up. I drill the holes to the right length, put in the rawl plugs and put it up. I am very pleased although I know that I will be unable to open the front door fully. I think that, maybe, this will be a problem for the delivery of the cooker but then, I think, I can always take the coat hanger off, if I really need to. I write some posts but don’t finish them. As usual.

F comes over and we have a second round of soup, Shepherd’s Pie and Apple and Blackberry Crumble. then we watch Cinema Paradisio. I have seen it for about 15 years. The last time was when V & I were doing Italian at night school and the teacher lent it to us. I knew I loved it but couldn’t remember it at all. It’s lovely but we have to have a break at 10.30 so I can take the dogs out. We get to bed just before midnight. I will be tired tomorrow, I think. F says that I need to sleep. It’s true. I have two English lessons after work as well tomorrow night. I sleep.

Tuesday.

The clocks going back have made no difference to the fact that is is pitch black when the alarm goes off at 6.40! Or maybe it’s because it’s still bloody raining! OK, so not raining so much, but, obviously, it’s also dark because of the black clouds. Rufus has not made a mess. Well, that’s one good thing. I end up being late for work. I forgot to tell you that I did win the Superenalotto….everntually. I got three numbers on Saturday night. That’s €16.24. This morning, I go to the tobacconist below my house and play again (even if I promised that I would stop when the jackpot was won, which it was on Saturday – exactly when I won €16.24 instead of €177,000,000). Mau is there as usual. He’s promising to ring me about English lessons too. He needs it for the TOEFL test.

I get to work. I must leave home earlier than I do at the moment. I do the lesson log for M-T, my student for tonight. I am annoyed at myself for not having done it last week but it doesn’t really matter.

As I write this, it is still raining. It is supposed to stop in a couple of hours. I will not finish teaching before 8.30 tonight. Maybe, I think, I will take the whole day off on Friday, when the cooker is delivered. Why not?

I am tired.

Serious training required

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“I want a new baby”, he says. He is slightly drunk. I love him when he’s drunk. He’s more affectionate and also quite funny.

“You mean a puppy?”, I ask.

It seems ‘yes’. “We shall have to talk about the training first”, I state.

Of course, I don’t mean the puppy training. The puppy training is not a problem. I mean the ‘F training’. Of course, I don’t actually specify that. He thinks it’s the puppy training. There will also have to be less of the ‘can you take them out tonight’ or ‘do you mind if I don’t come’ lines. However, one thing at a time. And, anyway, it’s not happening before Rufus goes. Three, as I found out one time, are just so much more work.

We had been out with the ex-parents-in-law to al Grigliaro, a predominately fish restaurant, not far from our flats. F knew it because, when they are busy with the showroom sales and working till late in the evening, they sometimes go there as a group.

And, the staff know F, which is always a good thing as we get a much better service and, usually, a discount off the bill.

I asked him, as we were walking down to it, why he had changed his mind about me coming, since it was a complete about-turn and I was interested as to why the change of mind.

“I rang S”, he says, adding “and he said ‘of course you should take Andy'”. And, so, here we were walking down to another restaurant I hadn’t tried before.

It is another Sardinian restaurant but nothing like the same as Baia Chia. For one thing, this is not as ‘rustic’ as Baia Chia. There is more room and many more tables. It is also more expensive. We wait outside for M and S. They are from the Manchester area. I have my expectations of what they will look like and what they will be like. They are, of course, not really anything like I expected.

They are very nice, middle-class, people from the North. They know, of course, that we are not just ‘friends’ as F had said. But, then, S is their son and, no doubt told them that F had a new boyfriend. But, later, when F and I went out for a cigarette after the main course, I learnt of actually ‘why’ F was a little concerned.

They had met some time after S & F split up. They went out for a dinner. Apparently M (S’s mother) started crying and asking if S & F would get back together. He was worried about the same thing happening; or her being disappointed with him being with someone other than S; or something like that, I guess.

In typical Italian style, the restaurant was very brightly lit. The tables and chairs were OK but nothing special. The food however, was really lovely and the service very, very good. S didn’t eat shellfish (and was a bit of a finicky eater anyway). F asked the waiter (owner’s son) to bring us a selection of antipasto, mainly hot but also a little of the cold antipasto.

Plate after plate came. Some poached salmon, anchovies with a celery and ginger sauce; octopus with tiny courgette-type vegetables, squid with a rich, creamy, tomato sauce and polenta, prawns with artichoke, etc. For cold it was rather large prawns (that blue colour that looks as if it was someone who spent a little too long outside in freezing conditions), clams and, my favourite, oysters.

We chatted about many things and I asked appropriate questions, as one does. They were very nice people. And they were obviously pleased to see F had someone, probably, particularly, as they will have already met S’s new American boyfriend.

By the time we had finished the antipasto, none of us were really hungry. We decided to have three portions of fish (one of each poached, pan-fried and grilled) and split them between the four of us. The best was the grilled branzino – as branzino is, by far, my favourite fish.

We drank two bottles of very nice white wine. We had sweets. We had mirto which they had never had before and they brought the rest of the bottle, which we finished.

It went well. We are meeting them again tonight. Also, probably, A who is over from London again, for work. Tonight we shall go to Baia Chia.

As we are going up in the lift, with him slightly drunk, leaning on me and wanting cuddles, is when he said he wanted another ‘baby’. I know it is true, even if he is not there all the time (having to travel – even more now, probably, for work).

But, as I say, there will have to be some serious ‘F training’ for it to work :-D