Tag Archives: Drink

Is that it?

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Is that it?

The first day of September. Not, officially, the first day of autumn – but it might as well be. Thunderstorms and showers – oh, yes, and a bit of sun. It’s still warm though, which is nice. I mean, warm enough to still be wearing sandals and a T-shirt (although, as I write this I am not wearing those things – but I was at 6 a.m. this morning).

And I’m sure that it’s not it, really. I’m sure we shall have some really nice warm days during September and, if we’re lucky, through to October too!

I went out for a drink last night with An, F’s friend. On waking this morning I got the usual after-a-night-drinking-and-having-too-many-and-not-keeping-my-mouth-shut thoughts. I.e. I said too much about F and stuff. I shouldn’t. But it’s ages since I’ve been able to ‘chat’ with someone. Especially a woman and so I kind of ‘let go’. Damn. Oh well, I’ll get over it.

F is away. I join him tonight. Me and the dogs. The weather will be better apart from, maybe, Sunday. But it’s OK anyway.

Orsoblu; French = gay?????

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Well, it was far better than the last deal we went to, that’s for sure.

Another Groupon deal, this time Orsoblu, picked especially because not only was it close but it was also a fish restaurant.

The interior is smart, modern, chic and ……. well, …….. blue. It was a Monday so it was fairly quiet but that was fine. It was a fixed menu, since that was part of the deal. We chose (well, he chose) the wine. It was some Chardonnay. It was quite nice.

It took some while for each of the courses but that’s OK. I don’t mind waiting except that it was a Monday night and, because I had had a lesson booked (which was subsequently cancelled), I had booked it for 9.

There was the antipasto. Nicely presented. It included a raw shrimp, some salmon, a scallop (as an aside, I could not remember the English word for this. I had to look up the Italian – cappesante – which I remembered. This is shocking and, to be honest very annoying. It’s not as if I could spell the word correctly in Italian anyway, so that makes it even worse!!), some unidentified white fish, a mussel and something that was like a lump of polenta – oh, and a razor fish. It was quite nice. Too much bread-crumbing for me, personally (the scallop, the mussel), however, the razor fish (which I’ve had once before, bread-crumbed) was not bread-crumbed and therefore better, although I’m not sure if it’s quite as good as it should be – I’m not sure what to expect with razor fish. I mean, there’s hardly anything there! It was the first time he had had it so he wasn’t sure how to eat it. That made me smile.

Then there was the primi. On each plate was some sort of pasta (like slightly flat spaghetti) with clams – this was nice and some risotto. The risotto was flavoured with orange and was ‘fishy’ – i.e. had some fish thing going on – but I’ve no idea what. Still, they were both very nice.

Then we had the main course. Half of a very well filleted branzino (Sea Bass), with a sauce that was quite rich, with mushrooms (that were quite nice) and some breaded pieces of potatoes, roasted or fried. The taste of the branzino was a little lost in the richness of the sauce but it was well done.

Then we had cannoli. This is a particularly Sicilian sweet. Quite often filled with ricotta cheese. A lot of Italians love it. As far as I’m concerned, it is OK but a bit too sickly sweet for me. But, then, I prefer something with fruit, to be honest.

By now it was already 10.30, so we paid (with the voucher we were paying only for the wine and water – the bill being 23€!)

Overall, I would say that it was nice. For me there was a bit too much going on with the dishes. I’m not a great fish eater and I always prefer simple. This was not the Lamparo. But, to be honest, they did a good job, trying to give us a sample of the things they can do. I prefer my branzino with little else – just steamed or fried.

On a minus note, the waiter spoke so softly that I don’t think I actually heard a single word he said. But, maybe, that was just me. The service, although we waited a long time between courses, was good.

Yes, I would go there again but no, I wouldn’t rush to go there, choosing Lamparo or Baia Chia before it.

Oh, yes, and it’s sponsored by Vivienne Westwood! Who knew that restaurants were sponsored?

On our way back to the car I was informed that French (the language) was very ‘gay’.

Guess who I was with? ;-)

My head, my face and what actually comes out of my mouth.

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It is 7.30 a.m. The sign reads 25°C.

I like it a lot although it is pretty humid, especially last night.

And, about last night. We went for a beer, just the two of us. We were chatting and P, my next-door neighbour came into Polpetta. We were chatting. She’s giving up her flat. Her lease runs out and they are increasing the rent – considerably. It’s too much for just one person and times is hard, especially in her line of work. And, so, she’s moving out of Milan, in November. It’s a shame as she is the only one in the building that I speak to.

F asked her about her rent. She does have a really good deal now, for sure. F and I talked about the flat below mine. I have asked about the cost of that flat. They will let me know in September. Then he asked about checking out the one with the terrace that is opposite the courtyard from mine.

And then he said (again) about how he couldn’t live with anyone again. The reason is: what happens when we split up?

I don’t say anything stupid like ‘Well, that’s not going to happen’. That would provoke the response of ‘You never know. Nothing lasts forever’. Instead I say, ‘Yes, I understand what you mean’.

And, I’m not really sure how this happened, but then he said, within the next 10 minutes that, perhaps we could live together and ‘would I want that?’.

My face stays flat. Without emotion. In my head I am screaming that yes, of course that’s what I want. My face says nothing and my mouth says, ‘Well, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about a cleaner’ and then I laugh.

It’s almost as if, if I don’t say what I really want, that’s what I get from him. It’s different to any other relationship I’ve had before.

And now, because I received the anonymous email and then made an unexpected post, last night, I’ve reached post 999.

As I’ve mentioned, I’ve written post 1000. I’ll set it to publish whilst I’m away. It gives you, my dear reader, something to look forward to. I hope it doesn’t disappoint and hopefully, the guy won’t manage to get my blog taken down in the meantime but I have backups and, if it does go, it should be back within a couple of days after I come back from my holiday.

Enjoy. E buona vacanza

Words and deeds. Chalk and cheese.

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Just like eating food, here, means that people talk about food, so going on holiday leads to people talking about holidays. Not always this one but future ones.

Sunday. Lunch. It was F’s Dad’s birthday and it reminded me that it was only a year ago when I first met ‘the Family’. In fact, this time last year, we went to the same restaurant, the day after his birthday. For his birthday, the whole family went to a fantastic restaurant on the side of a mountain. The Sunday was a lunch at a restaurant at the beach.

We’re back at the same restaurant. This time it is different. This time I know the people and they know me. There is talk – of holidays. F is suggesting that we could go to Sicily next year. There is talk of his sister coming plus brother-in-law and niece. Apparently, I learn, they have a house down in Sicily too!

I’ve never been to Sicily. I have been told it is a wonderful place. I would very much like to go. He asks if I would like to go and I say ‘yes’.

There is talk about the travel down there – plane, boats and road. I think F wants to take the plane from Milan. His brother-in-law is suggesting ferries. The first leg to Naples and the second to Messina. It’s cheaper that way. Each journey will be about 6 hours, apparently.

It is accepted that I will be there. I like it a lot. Even if S gets mentioned quite often, it’s not said in any way to make me feel uncomfortable (which it doesn’t). Anyway, it seems that barring the detail, next year it will be Sicily in a house I didn’t know about!

Except.

Of course, words are one thing. Deeds are another.

We’re at Polpetta with An, last night. The talk is of holidays. Her parents have a house in Puglia. F says that we will go there next year. I say it would be lovely. Of course it would. I learn that F hasn’t actually been back to Sicily since he was about 12!!!!!! He says it won’t be a real holiday since it would mean having to go round to relatives all the time. And lots of eating. But, since he hasn’t been there since he was 12, I’m thinking that he doesn’t really know. It’s OK anyway. I know these are words. Words are very different from deeds – at least, to him.

We differ a lot.

I empathise with the Sicily problem although, quite obviously, I don’t see this as a problem. I can empathise because I’ve heard it several times before. So when I say ‘Yes, of course’, I mean ‘Yes, of course, I’ve heard this before’. When I say ‘It’s not really a holiday’, I’m repeating what he has already said to me and not because I actually believe it.

So, this year is set. One week in Carrara followed by one week in Umbria – where we went last year.

Next year is only words. It’s OK. Maybe it will be Sicily or maybe Puglia or maybe just Carrara (He’s mentioned that already as it will be much cheaper). To be honest, I don’t really mind, as long as I’m with him.

Oh yes, and last night it is mentioned that we shall be going to Sardinia in May. Or maybe St Tropez. Or some place in the very south of Spain. It’s his friends 50th birthday and she wants to celebrate big time. I wonder when he knew? I wonder why he’s only told me now? Still, words are only words.

Last Weekend

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Obviously, we’re back online :-)

I’ll be adding posts written in the last few days and here is one:

26/7/11
Well, that was all rather nice. I think they enjoyed it. We didn’t seem to do much except eat and drink and do a little tourist stuff and a bit of shopping and then eat and drink.

My perfect holiday.

We did go to Bagutta, a restaurant in Milan, just behind Via Montenapoleone. We ate in the garden. It wasn’t so hot and there weren’t so many mosquitoes, which was good (although it could have been hotter for me, of course).

The waiter was funny (as in funny, ha ha not funny, strange) but he did bring us fried courgette flowers to start which were delicious. It was the first time that I’ve had them like that. Before they’ve been filled with ricotta cheese or something. I had some culatello (meat – like ham, thinly sliced) with figs. F had prosciutto with figs. I tried some. I should have had that.

I had penne with a ragù sauce (which included peas). We skipped main courses because this was enough! However, I saw that they had raspberries and wild strawberries so I asked for a mix of those with some cream. It was lovely (even if the raspberries were not as tasty as those we had the other week in Cararra.)

We had wine and water and mirto or limoncello at the end. It is expensive, coming to over €270 for the four of us but really nice and the food and service were excellent.

The night before, we had gone to Porca Vacca. F is so taken with that restaurant now that he suggested to An, when we went out for a drink with her on the Sunday night, that we should go this week. So we are going on Wednesday night, apparently.

But the main thing was that D&S enjoyed it – which I think they did.

La Piccola Versilia

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It started off quite well. We were greeted and given an option of several tables. We chose one. The background music was quite loud and a slightly strange choice – it was more like dance music!

The restaurant was small. It was more like a bar that had some tables. The decoration was ‘modern’ but, to be honest, there wasn’t really much in the way of decoration. There was a mural behind me which was fairly nondescript and high on the wall opposite was the front of an old fiat 500 (I think), the lights supposedly being lit – but only one of them was.

The antipasto arrived. This was quite lovely and gave me high hopes. There was a bacon thing, fried. Very tasty, probably smoked, with mostardo – one cherry and the sauce. With it was some nice cheese. F didn’t want the meat so I had his and only had a taste of the cheese. We had water and they asked about wine. We asked for white. They were sorry but they didn’t have white apart from the house white.

This has got to be the first restaurant in Italy that I have ever been to that didn’t have a proper wine list. The house white was OK but nothing special.

Then came our primi. This was risotto. Risotto Milanese, of course, with a small osso bucco. It was OK. I’m not really a big fan of rice but I knew this was what we were going to get. The presentation was fine but the risotto itself was nothing stunning. After the starter this was a slight disappointment. Still, there was coteletto to come!

It came. It was thick and on the bone. I prefer the thin and no bone myself. So does F. We had ordered roast potatoes with it. They were fine. The crust of the cottoletto was slightly strange. More like the coating to southern fried chicken but without the spices. Maybe it had been deep fried?

We finished. They took away the plates and the bread (which was quite nice). F finished his glass of wine (we had 2 glasses each) and his water. We waited for them to come over and suggest sweet or coffee. They didn’t. The restaurant was very small and they had two people as front of house. There were a total of 3 tables occupied. We were surprised that they didn’t come over. But we were ready to go and so we got up and paid. The Groupon voucher was supposedly worth €58, the bill for the cover charge, water, wine and potatoes came to €22 – so a total of €80 for the meal.

F said as we walked to get an ice-cream, that he wouldn’t go back there again, even if someone invited us. And I agreed.

Enocratia, the last one we went to with a ‘set meal’ for the Groupon voucher was a million times better. We felt that the food could have been a little bit more ‘special’ but that the service could and should have been wonderful – and that would have made a difference to our whole experience.

I would give it one star for the antipasto thing and nothing for anything else. We discussed Porca Vacca where the Groupon voucher experience, although not worth much, means that we shall be going back (on Friday, actually) or Enocratia where, if only it were closer, would become, I’m sure, one of our favourites.

As we discussed, with this Groupon voucher it is a chance for us to discover new restaurants and for them to show how good everything can be. La Piccola Versilia failed quite miserably, I’m afraid.

Sons and Daughters

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It’s going to be a busy few weeks before the holidays.

Apart from that, it’s also going to be a fattening few weeks with lots of meals out.

So, by the time the holidays come, I shall be, at once, fatter and slimmer – although, probably, the ‘fatter’ part will win through.

I am quite looking forward to next weekend when my son and his wife will be over.

For those of you that have just thought, ‘Have I missed something?’, no, you haven’t. I’m not really being serious. But it’s sort of like that. It’s the guy who got married last year. They’re coming to celebrate their first anniversary here, in Milan. Aw, bless.

Actually, in all these years, only 3 people/couples have come here to Milan to visit me (previously, us). This will be the fourth. In six years.

I hope to be able to help them to enjoy their stay and am taking some days off to do so. During their time here we shall be eating (rather well, I think :-) ), drinking and doing some other things that are less important. Mainly eating and drinking. Oh, and seeing the Last Supper. And, maybe going to the Duomo and, if it’s nice, up to the roof. And, did I mention? Eating and drinking.

I will be enjoying it.

But that’s the weekend after this one. In the meantime, have a good weekend.

I guess it’s official now.

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I guess I have reached the ‘I am an old codger’ stage of my life.

It’s not really my age, as such, it’s my attitude.

Saturday night was the ‘Notte Bianca’.  This is an Italian thing.  Once a year, roads are closed to traffic and the shops and bars stay open until late.  By late, I mean 2 or 3 or later.

There are often ‘discos in the street’, stalls and street traders selling tourist-type crap.  There are food and drink stalls.  And people wander about.

I suppose the reason it can be done here is the weather.  It’s warm and it lends itself to staying up till the early hours of the morning.

F apologised a number of times and checked I wasn’t bored.  St, an old friend of his, has been having problems with her 30+-year-old marriage.  Or rather her husband has been having problems, if you see what I mean.  She has lived in the town all her life and feels she cannot confide in anyone who lives there – so F was an obvious choice.  It seems a lot of people are having problems right now.

Anyway, obviously they were talking in Italian.  I suppose I could have tried to follow the conversation but it seemed rude to do so, me not being an old friend.  So, I didn’t.

We went to a bar and found a seat (which was lucky).  And they talked whilst I looked around.  And I catch myself wondering why the young people (especially the girls) think that wearing a pair of shorts or skirt that barely covers your bum when you have tree trunks for legs, think that it can possibly be attractive?

I suppose it is the same as when I was a teenager and I suppose the older generation thought much the same about us as I think about the youngsters of today.

But, that’s not entirely fair.  There are women of F’s age wearing the same sort of thing although it’s noticeable that the women of that age generally wear something that suits their figure.  Not always, of course, but mostly.

We left about midnight as F didn’t like a friend of R (his best friend who had joined us with his entourage later) who announced to everyone, and in front of her 10-year-old daughter, how she really needed a fuck tonight.  I only learnt later that was why we had left as I hadn’t understood.

Possibly it’s as well that I don’t understand sometimes but F and I do agree on stuff like that.  As we used to say in the UK – it’s not big and it’s not clever.

However, I did enjoy the evening.  Watching the people.  And St seems very nice.  Bless her, she’s still in love with her husband after almost 40 years of knowing him.  Shame he’s such a barsteward really.

Pleasantly warm

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I stand out on the balcony.

I think to myself that it’s ‘nicely warm’. And then I think that most Italians are complaining about it being too hot. Last night, on my journey home, at the last traffic lights before I park, there is a chemists that has a sign showing the current temperature. It said 31°. It was nearly 7 p.m. I like this. A lot.

Today will be much the same. I guess it’s getting to about 33° or 34° during the day.

Everyone seems to be looking forward to Thursday or Friday when the weather will break.

Our mind plays tricks on us. I seem to remember that, when we first came here, the whole of June and July hovvered around the 30° mark. But this weekend (the beginning of July) it forecasts the low 20s. I secretly hope that the forecast is wrong. Or not so secretly if someone should ask me.

But, is it right that only 6 years ago, the summers were hotter? Or is it just wishful thinking (wishful memories?)?

Obviously, it’s nicer if you’re sat at a bar with a cooling beer or on the beach with the cooling sea to go in to – but we can’t have everything in life. Or, maybe I could if I moved further south ;-)

The last few days

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We did bitch about Italians quite a bit. It makes me feel a bit guilty but it was really all about shared experiences and, unfortunately, most of them would be about Italy and Italians.

It was beautiful weather. We arrived late – very late – after I had been to Bologna to pick her up.

Saturday was walking the dogs, having a coffee at the cafe in the centre of the town and then the beach.

Saturday night was dinner at La Brace (see restaurants on the right). This was fabulous and some spectacular wine except for one thing – we had Fiorentina (a steak from Tuscany) but, unfortunately, it was overcooked.

However, very nice.

Sunday, I had planned to take her to Le Cave (where they extract the marble) but I woke up really late and so, after the dog walk, it was just the beach again.

We left later than I wanted but, still, it only took 3 hours to get back – the traffic queues being at the start instead of the end.

It was nice but I miss F when I’m there. Still, from now on, he should be with me :-)