Tag Archives: Food

Occasionally, Italians are REALLY annoying!

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As I have mentioned before, I quite like food.

OK, so that’s an understatement. I bloody LOVE food. I mean L. O. V. E. it. Especially food that is bad for you although I also like food that is good for you, I suppose (I like vegetables and stuff).

Coming to Italy, one would think then, was really just the perfect place for me. And it is, in many, many ways.

But, as I have probably mentioned countless times, the Italians, themselves (with notable exceptions such as F, Lola, etc.) are so SMALL-MINDED when it comes to food. In fact, over the last few days, I have become quite incensed about it. So much so that this morning, when I brought flapjacks in for my colleague, S, to taste (and many thanks to Amy for reminding me about the fact that flapjacks are made with Golden Syrup), when she said that she loved them and wanted the recipe, I had my little say about Italians always complaining how nowhere else can do food properly and that it wasn’t true as can be proved by some of the things that I make and that Italians like.

And the reason I was so uptight about this was some random article about foods you SHOULD NOT ask for in Italy.

One of the things was an Hawaiian Pizza (boiled ham with pineapple as a pizza topping). The article was certain that none of the foods mentioned were available in Italy. I pointed out, quite rightly, that I have had this pizza in a couple of places in Milan (and, with fresh pineapple rather than the tinned variety and really top-quality ham it is NOT the same as any I’ve had in the UK but a million, zillion times better).

But Italians will be so effing conservative when it comes to food! So I’ve had many comments railing against such a thing and saying that this is done only for the tourists (when I specifically pointed out that these pizzerias were NOT in any tourist area!) and that Milan is not a typical Italian city. The most stupid thing is that they think it is horrible – without even tasting it! And yet a fishy mayonnaise sauce is the perfect topping when spread over a thin slice of veal!!! And Melon goes with cured ham. Or figs.

They just close their minds to tasting something new without some preconceived ideas about what is right and wrong. In fact, if it wasn’t invented in Italy then it’s obviously wrong.

Sorry (Lola), but they’re just plain wrong!

And it makes me just a little irritated, to be honest.

Grrrrrrr.

Treacle Tart

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Another of the old favourites. Italians also seem to like this. The troppo sweetness of the Golden Syrup (I obviously found it one time here – details in link below) is cut through by the sharpness of the lemon zest and juice. I have made it with bought pastry, but it’s not quite so nice. Again, this is from the Hamlyn All Colour Cook Book. If you can find Golden Syrup, give it a try!

Ingredients:

Pastry –
4 oz plain flour / 113g farina tipo 00
pinch salt / pizzico sale
1 oz lard / 28g strutto
1 oz butter / 28g burro

Filling –
8 oz golden syrup / 227g sciroppo di zucchero di canna (parlzialmente invertito)
2 0z fresh white breadcumbs / 57g pangrattato bianco fresco/appena (I’m not sure which word applies)
grated rind of 2 lemons / scorza grattugiata di 2 limone
2 teaspoons lemon juice / 2 cucchiaini di succo di limone

Method:

Sieve flour and salt into a bowl. Add the lard and butter cut into small pieces and rub into the flour until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. Add enough water to mix to a firm dough. Roll out pastry thinly on floured table and use to line a 7-inch (18 cm) flan dish (although I always use a normal dinner-size plate instead). Re-roll pastry trimmings and cut into circles with a 3/4-inch (1.9 cm) fluted cutter. Brush underside of each with water and arrange, overlapping, round the edge of the dish.

Mix together the syrup, breadcrumbs, lemon rind and juice. Spoon filling into flan.

Bake for about 25 minutes in the oven (400°F/200°C/Gas mark 8) until the pastry is pale and golden.

Serve hot or cold. on it’s own or with hot custard (crema)

Being a foreigner; another first!

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It’s probably about 10.30 p.m.

Maybe 11.

It’s Friday night and I’m taking the dogs out for their final time that night. It’s a bit later than normal as tomorrow is Saturday and a lie in. If I take them too early, they will want to be out early the next morning and, I’m sorry, but I can’t do that at the weekend. Well, I could and, obviously, have but I prefer not to if I can help it.

We had been to Liù for a pizza earlier. It was a bit strange in that, when we were sitting there waiting for the pizzas to come, I had this sudden moment when I felt that I was in a foreign land. Of course, I AM in a foreign land but as I’ve been here quite a long time now, I don’t tend to notice. It is my “normal” and it’s not new. So, although most of the time I hear Italian all around me, it doesn’t seem strange nor does it feel like I live somewhere foreign. And yet, just for about 20 minutes, I felt as if I were not in my own country.

It’s not that it was a bad thing. It just “was”. And, in some way, I marvel in it. If I had been told when I was young that I would up sticks so late in life and go and live in Italy, I’m not sure that I would have believed it. Retire, maybe, but just to come and live and work here, probably not.

Anyway, I digress. So, there I am, going out with the dogs for their last walk.

We come out of the building and turn right, as always. They know which way to go. Dino does his first pee on the nearest car, as always. Piero usually waits to the first junction.

As we approach the junction, a car pulls up and half-blocks the entrance to the road on the right. I don’t think anything of it. I mean people sometimes park there like that.

These people don’t get out though and the engine is still running.

We cross the junction to continue our way down the “perfect street” and I glance inside the car as the courtesy light is on.

And I see something that I’ve never, ever seen before. I mean to say, I’ve seen it on films and TV but never in real life!

A line of what I can only assume is cocaine is on some sort of hand-held flat surface (maybe the back of a phone or a mirror), the passenger is holding the said flat surface whilst the driver snorts the white powder.

There, in the street (well, the car) in full sight of anyone (that would be me) walking past!

Obviously, as I’ve never taken any drug apart from stuff for illness, tobacco and alcohol, I get sort-of excited about this. I mean, this is for real!

I guess that most people will have seen this since it seems that the snorting of cocaine is fairly common from what I have read or seen on TV or in films.

However, for me it was a rather strange first.

Barrell

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Even if the move together has lost a bit of momentum (given the fact that F will have to make a largish payout for work on the other house soon), it’s still likely to be this year.

And, now, I’m looking at things that happen and trying to determine what that will mean in the future.

Let me be clearer. F is currently (almost) living at my place as a friend of his is currently staying at his. This means that he spends a lot more time at mine – and it’s almost as if we are living together.

This has plus sides, of course. But, there are a couple of things that cause concern.

The first is, obviously, his obsession with cleaning. But, I’ve spoken about that many times so I’ll ignore that for now.

The second is food. When I was with V and we were both working (here), we both got a really good deal for lunch. Up until that point, we ate in the evenings. We would eat next to nothing all day but have a proper meal every evening. When we started work in Italy (full time), we were getting the great lunch deal and then going home and cooking our normal evening meal. Needless to say, we started to put on weight.

Obviously, we had to cut out one of the meals. Since, in my case, I get lunch for about 7 cents per day, it seemed crazy to cut that one and, so, we stopped eating in the evening.

The problem with F is that he doesn’t really eat much at lunch and he has no canteen at work so although he gets a voucher, he doesn’t get lunch for 7 cents!

Plus there’s the fact that he has had a bad back all week, so has been off work and not really eating at lunchtime.

So he’s been cooking. An example would be that he bought some cece (chick peas) the other day and made some sort of thick soup-type thing yesterday.

So, last night, we had this cece soup. I tried to get him to give me just a taste but he can’t seem to cope with this concept, so although the bowl wasn’t overflowing, it was certainly much more than I either needed or wanted. But I can hardly not eat it, can I?

I’m thinking that, amongst the other things about living together will be me putting on weight. Or rather, me putting on MORE weight. Becoming “barrel like”, I think the term is. And this is NOT good.

So, now I have to find a way around this. Of course, I could stop having lunch at work – but here I get meat every day and with F I wouldn’t. So that’s no good. Perhaps, the only real solution is to just have the main course here, at work. But then if there’s a pasta dish I like as well as a main course I like, it will be very tempting!

I have time to think this through but it’s a bit of a bugger. And “like a barrel” is really not for me.

When “hot” doesn’t mean “hot”

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I’m not talking about the weather. No. That is as cold as the tip of an Eskimo’s nose. Winter is arriving, for sure.

No, I’m talking (again) about differences between Italians and the English.

If you live here, can you remember the last time you had a really “hot” meal cooked by an Italian? I don’t mean “spicy” hot but hot hot. More like boiling hot. So hot that you had to cool it down by blowing on each forkful.

No, I didn’t think so. Meals, here, are regularly served on cold plates – the food itself hardly piping hot. The only exception to this is, sometimes, meat, served on a sizzling hot plate or, at one restaurant where they used to serve thinly sliced Branzino (Sea Bass) on such a hot plate that they had to warn you about it.

At the weekend, in partial preparation for a move, I was cooking stuff from the freezer. I found a Mincemeat and Apple Plait that I had made to use up the last of the mincemeat I had and some of the apples that we always buy at Christmas (and then leave to rot in the fruit bowl). I thought F might like it. And I made custard to go with it. Not a lot because (I thought) F doesn’t like custard.

I cooked the Plait and timed it just right so that it was ready to come out as we finished the main course.

In fact, F did want custard – and as much as I could give him – which was a bit of a bastard as it meant that I had much less and, if I had known, I would have made a full pint rather than half a pint :-(

But, he wouldn’t eat it.

He put it outside, on the windowsill, to cool down. I was quite shocked. I asked him why. He told me that he can’t eat hot deserts and had I not noticed that Italians don’t do hot deserts which, now that he had mentioned it, was true!

“But why can’t you eat it when it’s hot?”, I asked. Apparently, it’s bad to put hot things in your stomach. Who knew that, all my life I have been doing something so bad for me? And why wasn’t I ill more often?

And then, today, as I was eating my lunch in the canteen, I bemoaned (to myself, obviously) that everything is served fairly tepid on cold plates and, so, you don’t actually eat “hot” food. I was eating cauliflower which was almost cold. Partly because it was only tepid when served and then because the plates are actually cold. And that’s true (with the exceptions I’ve mentioned above) in restaurants too!

Perhaps it’s a climate thing? It’s certainly a cultural thing. And, again, we come back to the weird beliefs Italians seem to have about your health and what is good or bad for you.

In the UK, serving anything it was expected to be on hot, or at least warm, plates. And if it were piping hot, then that was better. But not here. Or, having just spoken to my colleagues, not for many people and, certainly, not for F.

Having spoken to my colleagues, I find that there are a few (but only about 3 or 4) sweets that are served hot. Unlike in the UK where, apart from during the summer, nearly all sweets are served hot.

And on warm plates so that they keep warm.

Sometimes, I miss certain things. This is one of them.

Italians are a strange bunch!

This guy is NOT for turning

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I have a bit of a problem with vegetarians and vegans, I have to admit (sorry, Lola). The problem isn’t against them, exactly, just against what they eat. Well, not everything they eat but some things.

It’s not that I hate vegetables. Far from it. It’s just that they are there to go with meat. But there are some things that I really don’t like.

I mean, for example, tofu. What is that except some tasteless, blancmange-type product.

But, my dislike of some of “their” food unfortunately clashes with things that F likes.

Take pesto. Pasta with pesto is just a really bad waste of nice pasta. It should be nice (and occasionally is nice) but rarely is.

And then, take lentils. Lentils to me taste, more often than not, of earth. Now, those of you who have been reading this blog for a while may remember the story of eating earth (or dirt, as I called it) and how I enjoyed it as a kid. But, now I’m older and, maybe, a little bit wiser and eating dirt from the garden is not something I tend to do – except I do feel like I’m doing it when eating lentils.

However, F loves them and will happily eat a plate of lentils for dinner.

So, as he was working, he suggested I did lentils.

It was my first time as he has always cooked them at New Year and I asked him how. He said to fry some onion, celery and carrot, add the lentils and water.

So I did. Except that I probably did it wrong. Perhaps too much onion, celery and carrot? In any event, even though I say so myself (although F also said they were good), they were the best I’ve ever tasted.

However, I’m NOT becoming vegetarian or vegan. The following day I had some with some nice lamb chops with mint jelly. Mmmmmm

So, here it is ……. almost.

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It’s 4.27 a.m.

I woke about 2 hours ago and got up. I had eaten too late last night. And now I’ve been up two hours and thinking I really should go back to bed.

For tomorrow is a looooong day. Or, rather, a looooong day and night.

And tomorrow (today) will be very, very busy since we have the usual New Year’s Eve get together at my flat.

Strangely, with V, we never really had these regular New Year’s Eve dos. Yet here I am, some years later with a “regular” New Year’s Eve thing going on!

Anyway, menus have been planned and some things are wip. Other things are to be made tomorrow. Hence, tomorrow will be very, very busy. And when not preparing there’ll be cleaning (because F will insist on it, bless him, even if my cleaner has already been in). Which means that it is very, very unlikely that I shall post anything tomorrow.

Which is why I’m posting now ……. just to wish my readers a very happy 2014!

I hope it will be a good year for you all!

And so it was!

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And it was.

A very Merry Christmas, I mean.

Christmas Day was cooking but, since we didn’t have anyone over, I enjoyed it. And we took it slowly. Although, if I’m honest, I shan’t be rushing to make the Christmas Duck recipe again. It was truly delicious (even with my improvisations) but just too complicated with about four different “things” put together only on dishing up. The Leek and Mushroom Filo Parcels that I made for F were, on the other hand, really good and really easy to make – although I will make them smaller, by about half, when I make them again.

Christmas was also presents. The dogs had theirs first then us. Thank goodness, the book I bought (second-hand) of Romy Schneider, F didn’t already have.

Boxing Day (S. Stefano here) was wonderful. Our guests were here from one o’clock until 10 p.m. I did roast pork – with crackling and apple sauce. We also had the mince pies we bought at Harrods and the Christmas Pudding (with Brandy Sauce) that Best Mate had made for me. It was lovely. Not so heavy and full of nuts and fruit. All in all a great time.

Yesterday I cleaned (as F was at work) as I managed to stop F doing it the night before.

And, today, F’s birthday present arrived. They look good. I can’t tell you what it is, just in case F reads this (although I’m almost certain he doesn’t). Still, they are perfect and I think he will be very happy :-)

So, onwards to New Year, when, for New Year’s Eve we shall have FfI, her friend H and, possibly FfC as well. In addition, of course, there could also be An and her husband. In any event, it should be a great New Year’s Eve.

I hope you all had a good time too and are also looking forward to New Year’s Eve.

It will be a very Merry Christmas – the preparations.

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I’m sitting in the kitchen cleaning.

Yes, sitting and cleaning.

That’s because I’m cleaning the dogs’ toys! WTF! Even I find it hard to believe that, as part of the preparations for Christmas, when everything has to be cleaned, when every corner must have no trace of dirt, I am cleaning dogs’ toys. These are the rubber and plastic toys that could not be put in the washing machine. It’s my contribution.

F had already “done” the kitchen whilst I was away.

He has decorated the tree (which looks a million times better than in the photo), put all the other decorations up, cleaned the wardrobe tops and mirrors and I’ve watched Scrooged to “get me in the mood” – which really wasn’t necessary but I just really wanted to watch it.

I’ve bought his main present and a few others. The rest will be bought on Christmas Eve afternoon. For me that’s the newish “tradition” that I really love to do.

That was a couple of days ago. Yesterday was my hunt for filo pastry, visiting A (who has broken his ankle and is now stuck at home) and searching for filo pastry. I love Italy and its wonderful food but, sometimes, you just wish they were a little more open about it. I got some eventually, thanks to A phoning round. It’s to make some leek and mushroom parcels for Christmas lunch for F. On the other hand, I will be having a duck thing. Both of them look good recipes.

To be honest, I was glad to be out yesterday. My cleaner was round and I left F cleaning the bathroom (using the steam cleaner) and my cleaner to it! Ammonia filled the air. Last night the dogs went for their Christmas clean.

So, today is the last minute things. Pasta from the pasta shop (F has become firm friends with the guys whose shop it is), to the market to get fresh fruit and veg (and a little bit of fish for this evening, if I can persuade F), picking up the meat (wild duck for me and then a nice piece of pork, with skin for crackling for Boxing Day, when we have friends over) and, probably, going to the supermarket for last minute things.

Then F can relax a bit whilst I go out and do the last minute shopping and wrap the presents for him.

Perfect!

And, then, tomorrow, a full Italian/English Christmas lunch/dinner. Opening presents (most are for the dogs!). And just hanging out.

I’m really looking forward to it.

I hope you all have a great Christmas in spite of the terrible weather that seems to be everywhere in the Northern Hemisphere. Including Milan where it is raining and will continue to do so for the next couple of days.

Things are OK now; A trip that I didn’t like; And relax.

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Well, just to keep you updated, the problem that was, is “was” and is no more. Or, at least, not for a bit and, soon, possibly not forever again.

So, that’s good, isn’t it? Yes, it is.

Today has been a holiday but some work came in unexpectedly, yesterday, and today was doing that. In between, under the bloody rain, I did lots of things including picking up jeans that were having a new zip, taking stuff to the dry cleaners, food shopping and going to get F’s main present. I didn’t feel I could leave that until the last minute. Just far too risky.

So, now, apart from food shopping for Christmas and he last minute things and wrapping presents, I am done.

And relax!

But I just wanted to talk about Israel. Before I went, last weekend, for work, many people told me how lovely Israel is and how great Tel Aviv is, etc., etc.

Now I’ve been before. I wasn’t all that impressed last time. This time even less so. I just don’t get it. I obviously don’t see what everyone who’s been there sees.

Let me describe to you my feelings on Israel and, in particular, Tel Aviv.

it is a dirty, messy hole. I wouldn’t go and live there for all the money in the world.

And then there’s the people. Arrogant doesn’t even come close to describing them. A bit like the Italians (but much worse), everything is done much better in Israel, apparently. Except it isn’t. And they always want something for nothing. If it were up to me, I wouldn’t deal with them. They are, as we say in the UK, a nasty piece of work.

And let me just add something that is a bit controversial.

Let me first explain that what Hitler and Mussolini did in the war (and their people) to the Jews was horrific and inexcusable. It should never be forgotten and we should always be watchful that something like this doesn’t ever happen again.

If I were Jewish, and lived in Germany or Italy, it would have been possible that my grandparents would have been killed. So it’s not that far away from me, if you see what I mean.

However, whilst never forgetting about it, I do feel it’s time to put it behind one and move forward. I don’t want to hear about it every day.

You see, I wasn’t hungry. The first day we had a very large lunch and then a very large dinner, provided by our hosts. By day two, I really couldn’t eat much.

I had a little bit of the appetiser, declined the soup and the first course. The jerk just opposite, to the right said, “Oh you can’t be Jewish”. Stupidly, I ask why not. He replied that, if I had been Jewish I would have eaten because, due to the Holocaust, all Jews feel they have to eat everything!

Well, for one, I don’t believe that and for two, excuse me but FUCK RIGHT OFF! That’s not an excuse for you to be a fat bastard and, even if I were Jewish, I would also have some pride about my fucking appearance which, quite frankly, you obviously don’t. And stop relating everything to the Holocaust! I guess, of course, that they can’t leave it alone because, I imagine, their parents constantly reminded them of it – but leave it alone now. As I said, we should never forget, none of us, but it should not be mentioned every fucking five seconds!

And, can I say that the hotel was the very worst hotel I’ve ever stayed in. And I really do mean EVER – in all my time staying in hotels (which is a lot of time and a lot of hotels). The Diaghilev, LIVE ART Boutique Hotel will NEVER see me there again. I was a little worried when I saw all the reviews so positive – but quite recent reviews. I should have stayed with my gut feeling. Cold room, no hot water, no decent service, no breakfast the first morning. Dreadful, dreadful, dreadful. My review is on TripAdvisor but the reviews are, generally, full of people posting their first ever review who think it is the best hotel ever. So mine will be lost down the list, which is shame for the real travellers who will be so disappointed when they stay there. Next time, I shall be more careful with TripAdvisor (and I had thought I already was!)

There were two good things about the trip. The first was Turkish Airlines – on time, food good, service good (we flew Milan to Istanbul and then to Tel Aviv). The second was the meal we went for (just me and my colleagues) to < href="http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Restaurant_Review-g293984-d4793435-Reviews-Tapas_1_Tel_Aviv-Tel_Aviv_Tel_Aviv_District.html" target="blank">Tapas 1 where the service was great and the food superb!

Anyway, enough of all that.

In the meantime, I am, almost, ready for Christmas and so I say … BRING IT ON!