spring broke - all of it

Some Blasts from the Past
So I knew my friends Adam and Sarah were going to be in London for spring break, but I did not realize they were going to be on the same plane on me. That was a pleasant surprise. We sat together and talked the entire trip.

When we finally did get to London, it wasn’t raining. But it was snowing. We parted ways, and when I got off the underground, I was reunited with Chad.

London is much cooler than I remember... perhaps because parts of it remind me of Chicago? And all the landmarks I remember from ten years ago are still here and just as impressive.

Since it was Easter, Chad and I went to Evensong at St. Paul’s Cathedral. Then after walking around (The Gerkin, The Eye, London Bridge, Big Ben) we got some “pub grub” at Old Shades. (Yes, what they say is true. When you go to London, “eat ethnic.” But pub food really is the best English food. It’s meat and potatoes. Basic and to the point. And I do like Yorkshire Pudding.)

We did a little barhopping and then wound up at an Irish pub called O’Neill’s, which is near Chad’s apartment building. His friend Alison, who went to Harvard, and two visiting friends were there too. And one of her friends was Paul Hamm. Paul Hamm is one of my classmates and good friends from Gonzaga. He went to Harvard. Small world! We spent about an hour talking about high school, catching up on each other lives, and probably boring everyone else at the table to death. He was leaving the city the next morning, so our timing was perfect.

Back at Chad’s, we made drunk food. Pan-roasted chicken, turkey escalope, and vegetable risotto. We cooked this while watching Beauty & The Beast because we’re children stuck in men’s bodies. Well, children who drink regularly, smoke once in a while, and gamble too often.

London Calling
Monday morning we slept in until Chad left for work. I spent the day walking around his neighborhood, Covent Garden, before meeting up with him when his shift at Pontefract Castle ended. We got some more beer and some more pub food. We played a few quick hands of blackjack at Grovenor casino before going to The Prince of Wales. (A pub, not a person. Next door to his apartment.) Frankie and Theodora, who are a couple and two of Chad’s other friends, were waiting for us there.

When we closed out the pub, we were talking about free-range and organic food versus food with hormones and preservatives. So Chad and I made more drunk food. Penne with ground beef and aurora sauce. And we watched another movie, Atonement, which is decidedly less light-hearted than Beauty & The Beast, but still a beautiful and complex love story.

Mind the Gap
Tuesday we started the day with lunch at Nando’s and then made our way to the National Gallery to see some classic works by the likes of Manet, Monet, Degas, Rafael, Picasso, Michaelangelo, and Da Vinci. From there we walked through Trafalgar Square and St. James Park to get to Buckingham. We grabbed dinner (“eat ethnic”) at Masala Zone and then did some more barhopping with Alison. O’Neill’s, Porterhouse, Walkabout, and White Hart. When it was closing time, the three of us watched Bad Boys instead of Coyote Ugly – Thank God – with a little Patron on the side.

Walkabout
Wednesday we started the day with McDonalds, which was definitely the best non-ethnic food I ate in Britain. I never realized how much I loved a Quarter Pounder with Cheese meal. They also had the Monopoly Game, and Chad won a McFlurry. They had a special Cadbury Crème Egg McFlurry for Easter. Good stuff. By the way, if you want to go abroad, but not really, go to London. It’s basically “America light.” From Heinz ketchup to Jif peanut butter, I think almost everything I missed was available. (Except Cajun food, which I miss everywhere but Louisiana.)

Chad gave me a tour of LSE’s campus and then we went to Harrod’s. I got my only souvenir there, a bottle of Trufett and Hill shaving cream. I didn’t know what other practical thing I could bring back. I don’t need tea or a scarf. But I am out of shaving cream. Anyway, from there we took “the tube” to the Victoria & Albert museum which is devoted to priceless treasures Britain rescued stole from around the world. It was a nice complement to all the paintings we saw the other day.

We had “eat ethnic” dinner at a Japanese restaurant in Chinatown called “Kintaro,” which if I recall correctly is also the name of the four-armed tiger monster boss from Mortal Kombat II. They offered a duck teriyaki, which I’d never had before and was pretty good.

We went to a bar in Soho called… Bar Soho and met up with Chad’s friend Giacamo who’s from a small town in Tuscany. Luckily he didn’t test my Italian after asking if I’ve been learning much in Florence. We went to Cambridge Pub for some snacks. (We waited for Giacamo a long time because he lives further out of London and because he’s Italian. We didn’t mind though.) I had Fish and Chips, as good as I remember it. I also intended to have (besides a Sunday Roast and Toad-in-the-Hole) Bubble & Squeak. But since we never actually woke up in time for breakfast, the B&S never happened.

Giacamo left soon after that, and Chad and I spent several hours drinking and dancing at a salsa bar… called Bar Salsa. (Real creative, these Brits.) We missed his Latinas, so we had to make new friends to dance the night away with. And we got a little friendly with some of the girls and subsequently lost track of time. It was lots of fun. After that, pretty much the only thing still open was the Gold Nugget Casino, that closed at 6AM. And I was completely right in my pre-London assumption that Chad and I would get drunk, stay out late, and wind up at a casino playing Blackjack. Lady Luck was not on our side as much as at Harrah’s New Orleans, but we still had fun and stayed there a few hours. We also missed the free drinks that Harrah’s give their patrons. Come to think of it, we’ve spent a lot of the visit reminiscing on how New Orleans is the most fun and most unique city in the world. (And Chad’s been to maybe more than twice the international cities that I’ve been to.)

Champagne Supernova
Thursday morning afternoon it took us forever to get up, which isn’t surprising given our Wednesday. I made the chicken and risotto thing from the other day again, but I made it sober. It was still pretty good, which surprised me.

We spent the little remainder of the afternoon walking around the British museum, looking at mummies and exploring the Parthenon relics that Britain “rescued” from Greece during the war.

We met up with Alan, one of my father’s friends and old classmates, at Kettner’s for “champagne and pizza.” (I thought a glass and a slice each; it was more like a bottle and a pie each.) Kettner’s is a champagne bar (as in, only the authentic stuff from vineyards in France), so we drank a lot of Ayala and Pol Roger, which Alan told us was Winston Churchill’s favorite. They even have bottles of it named after him.

This was kind of funny because since Chad had work for twelve hours on Friday and I left that morning. We had designated the previous night as “get pissed” night. But we got pissed again. Que sera, sera. We decided to skip the pubs for the night and just get a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black and watch American television.

Back to Italy
Friday I got home in the evening, so I went out with the girls to Moyo for a little bit. Fun times. Saturday I got up and went to lunch with Aneet, Jess, and Mindy. It was wonderful to have food both good and cheap so easily accessible again – spaghetti with tomatoes and clams. After we made a quick grocery trip, I hung out with the Girls Next Block at their apartment until dinnertime. Aneet, Jess, and I went and got pizza (apple and gorgonzola) and tiramisu at a place near our apartment. From there, a bunch of us went to the cultural association – I was meeting up with Sergio. We went to another bar, closed it out, then back to the CA, and closed that out as well. Went to bed around six in the morning. Great night.

Today was a great day. I got up at what I thought was nine a.m. but due to a combination of lack of sleep, late bedtimes, and “spring forward,” was actually two p.m. I woke up to Henk and Juan returning from their break in France. We got gyros and hiked to a tower across the river to drink yerba mate. After that, we got a few drinks at Moyo then went to Piazza Santa Croce to sit in the sun and enjoy daylight savings time. There it felt like a big family reunion. We had run into Liz and Aneet at Moyo, and in the Piazza we were eventually joined by them, Alison, Jess Mindy, Anna, and Lianne. We went to a nearby Spanish restaurant to get some sangria, and Ross and Joe walked by. And when we all parted ways, I ran into those two again and Nick. So basically, I saw pretty much every apartment I know except for the interNazionale girls, John, and Anton. Great day.

Easter weekend

Friday night was the official “Goodbye, Prima” dinner at Trattoria Zaza. Surely one of the best meals I’ve had here. But yeah, Prima’s going back to Mexico to make it in time for her sister April’s quinsiniera. Spring is finally here in Florence, pero Primaverais gone.

After dinner, I went out for a while with Marissa and some visiting British friends she’s made.

Saturday morning Ross called and woke me up because we’d planned to go to the market to get healthy trip snacks. Helen, Prima, John, and Jack all went too. I got a bag of raw cashews, but I doubt they’re going to make it even out of Italy at the rate I’m eating them.

Then Jack and I went to the Nazionale apartment to walk the girls to the train station, see them off, and say “hasta luego” to Prima.

I spent the afternoon doing some spring cleaning. I think L’Auberge Italienne is the cleanest it’s been since we got here. My night was chill. I packed and then went to the Nazionale girls’ apartment to spend the night there – without them sadly – so my walk this morning to the train station would be shorter.

Happy Easter. London is calling. I’m off.

new best week ever?

I’m really sorry that these weeks are flying by and I’m behind on updates.

Saturday ended in a nice and relaxed way. Giuseppe prepared veal cutlets and pesto pasta for dinner. I convinced him to go out with the girls and me since he was sitting on the couch with a book open on his lap staring into space. Do not confuse that with actual studying for midterms. He said he would “only have one drink.” Famous last words. We played Kings with the girls and Liane’s visiting friend before heading out to a few bars. Fun and chill night.

Palm Sunday was fantastic and even more relaxed. I got up early, went to mass, and then went back to bed. When I got up again, Henk and I went to lunch at a self-service restaurant both cheap and delicious. We walked around the city for a while and met up with Juan on the bridge north of Ponte Vecchio to drink some yerba mate. Using Henk’s tripod and Juan’s camera, I self-timed the picture of the three of us in the previous post. After that, we went to the Irish-pub-owned-by-Japanese-people to catch the second half of the Fiorentina/Genoa game and get some pre-St.-Paddy’s-Day beer. Henk and I stopped by Grom on the way home for some gelato. I went upstairs to borrow a book from The Girls Next Floor that ‘Seppe and I had befriended the other night, and they invited me to go to dinner with them and meet some of their friends. Dinner at Rubaconte. Gelateria Dei Neri after. I read half of Next by Michael Crichton, which I borrowed from the aforementioned girls upstairs.

Monday one of my teachers took us to the restaurant in the five star hotel by our house. Sadly it wasn’t an eating visit, just a viewing. He recently resigned as their executive chef. It’s a beautiful hotel. Rooms range from 700 to 3000 Euro a night. And they boast the biggest hotel suite in all of Europe. (I can’t remember the metric measurements.)

After that we took our midterm for food styling, and I handed in my portfolio for graphic design. I went to aperitivo with Sergio, my one Italian friend, Liane, her friend Robyn, and Giuseppe. We went bar hopping for St. Patrick’s Day but never actually made it to an Irish pub. Is it ridiculous that my drunkest Italian night was for an Irish holiday? Well, just goes to show that what an Irish bartender said when my friends and I pub-crawled in Ireland a few years ago: “Once you’re drunk in Ireland, you’re honorary Irish for life. Salinte!”

Tuesday was my day off. I spent it running errands. “You know what would make dinner better? Wine.” So my friends and I went to aperitivo. After that, we watched L’Auberge Espagnole. I had bought a copy since I told so many people about it. It was a fun experiment because the film is mostly in French, but the only subtitles were Italian. “You know what would make the film better? Wine.” So we bought a few bottles on the walk back to my apartment. After the movie, we wanted to go out but nothing too crazy. We decided to go sit on the bridge. “You know what would make the bridge better? Wine.” [I’m really not kidding about people saying these things all night.] Unfortunately we couldn’t find any wine en route to the bridge, so we just brought beer instead.
Marissa, Helen, Henrique, Juan, and I also formed a new clique. We realized while sitting on the bridge that we have quite the international mix. We’re the new Planeteers. Juan is North America/wind, Henrique is South America/fire, Marissa is Europe/heart, Helen is Africa/earth, and yours truly is Asia/water. Yeah, we’re cool.

Wednesday I had my Food Writing and Italian midterms. They were both pretty straightforward and, I thought, easy. That night, Marissa and Helen brought me to an aperitivo across the river at a bar where they hate Americans. “Speak only Spanish or Italian tonight. They will serve us faster.” I don’t mind that they hate Americans because certain college students aren’t good ambassadors. Plus I love being in bar with mostly Italians. It feels more genuine.

We were still hungry when aperitivo ended, so a bunch of us – Yes, a lot of our friends showed up. – got panini and pizze from Pan Pergo a stone’s throw away. Then we decided to go to Jack and Juan’s house to figure out the rest of the night. Marissa, Prima, Ross, and I decided to sing the entire walk, probably to the annoyance of the rest of the group. Here’s a copy of our quartet’s set list:

• In the Jungle
• Hakuna Matata
• Love Today
• New York, New York
• It’s All Coming Back To Me Now
• Total Eclipse of the Heart

Quite eclectic.

We ended up spending most of the night at Jack and Juan’s. Marissa and I reenacted our favorite Disaronno commercial. And then the game of touch cup started. And that was the beginning of the end. We ran out of wine and then probably out of rum. By then, everyone seemed appropriately “pinted” (Helen’s Zimbabwean slang). In the course of all this, we took over fifty photos, which I’ll upload eventually. A few of us left and went to a few bars, but that didn’t last very long.

Thursday AKA yesterday I had my Food & Society midterm. All the essay questions could be answered in one sentence, if not one word. We made arancini (fried rice balls, as in balls made of rice and then deep-fried, not balls made of fried rice). We shot a few more recipes and then turned in our portfolios for Food Photography. Check my facebook “what’d ya eat?” album if you want to see those glossy pictures. I had a chill night: Napping, getting online at a bar, catching up with David, hitting the sack again.

Today is Good Friday, and I've been running the errands I’ve put off all week. Laundry, cleaning, travel arrangements for spring break, etc.

Is it still a Lenten sacrifice if you love what you’re eating? For lunch I made a tuna salad out of yellowtail/yellowfin (AKA hamachi), cannelini bean, red onion, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt, and freshly ground black and cayenne peppers. An original Andrew creation: “Insalate di tonno all’ Andrea.”

Tonight is a little going-away dinner for Prima, and then who knows what will happen the rest of the weekend. I leave for London and more importantly Chad on (Easter) Sunday, so I can’t promise another update anytime soon. I’ll try though. Buona Pascua!

worth a few thousand words

Here's a few pictures from last week, super-sized to make up for the delay.

Wednesday with Marissa - We love red backgrounds.

Thursday with Giuseppe - We love turning 21.

Friday with Ross - We love piggyback rides.

Saturday with Mindy - We love purple.

Sunday with Henk and Jack - We love bridge graffiti.

best week ever?

As far as Florence weeks go, I mean. More timely updates in the future. This week just flew by.

Tuesday I planned a busy morning but then slept in. I went food shopping for a few ingredients and made the lasagne for my roommates and Marissa. They approved. We finished it. Then it was suddenly four o'clock, so I showered and shaved and got presentable for Hele's first exhibit ever. (I was going in a t-shirt and jeans until I found out Giuseppe and Jack were both wearing suits. So I dressed up a little bit. Primavera is of the opinion that the three of us “should dress like this ALL THE TIME.”) Helen's art was amazing. I’d seen a picture one of of the pieces before, but you know how art is usually smaller than you expect? Well this was larger than life. Two other girls I’d met, Hannah and Ashley were also displaying. It was at a venue outside the city that their professor, a famous printmaker, had been invited to. Lots of students. Friends of the professor. Other university colleagues. Wine. Snacks. Back here, I had dinner with Marissa and John and then went to the "cultural association" with my roommates, Juan, Jack, Marissa and all the neighborhood girls except Aneet. Good times. Random drunkenness.
Then we went to another bar nearby. Liane was talking to some guys, and Anna turned to my ear and said “Americans!”
And when we started introducing ourselves, one of the guys, about my height and mustachioed, reached forward and grabbed me by the shoulder. “DID YOU GO TO GONZAGA?”
Why yes, I did. “Andrew Marin ’03.”
I was about to ask if he did, and right as I mentally shaved off his mustache he goes “Patrick Bateman ’03!”
The American Psycho himself. And he was with the little sister of another guy in our class.
Small world.

Wednesday classes flew by. Food writing was about book layout (digitally, thank God). And I don't remember Italian class because I was distracted by the sex-music R&B (like "Never Ever Gonna Give You Up") playing in the background. Our teacher taught us a song in Italian too.
I went over to Jack's because we'd planned to have "breakfast for dinner," namely waffles since he finally found a waffle iron. I walked in to find Eddie making sushi. He and Anton had planned sushi night, so the two meals were just combined. It sounds terrible, but it was amazing. Obviously you just don't eat the two things simultaneously. We made rolls with salmon, assorted vegetables, and shrimp tempura. (Not all at once. Just different combinations.) And all the leftover salmon became sashimi. The waffles were served with a selection of maple syrup, butter, freshly whipped cream, strawberries, and various gelatos.
Then Giuseppe and I rolled out to our cultural association with a bunch of our friends. And we planned a shot and few drinks at midnight. But because of his birthday we got (even I) several free shots and free drinks. There and then at Twenty One once Anton and Fabio found out. It was amazing.
Back at the apartment, I wanted drunk food that wasn't snacks so I started dicing vegetables to make a ragu and then realized we didn't have any meat. So I just made pasta with vegetables (tomatoes, garlic, onion, celery, carrot, etc). Then we got distracted so I put it in the fridge the moment it finished cooking.

Thursday food photography class was amazing because we actually photographed some dishes one of the chefs prepared. (But we did the styling. It arrived in normal form.) Then Giuseppe's "real" birthday celebration started. His original plan was "No hangover on the birthday morning" but that fell apart when we went crazy the night before. We went to dinner with a bunch of the girls at Ristorante Rubaconte and then went out the bar for double-up. Then we hit a pub near Jack and Juan's place across the river where like ten other girls and a bunch of our friends showed up. We eventually worked our way back to Salamanca, including many piggyback rides which failed miserably. But it was fun. Giuseppe and I tried to call it a night but ended up meeting the girls who live on the floor above us. (We met them on the stairs.) We had tours of each other's apartment and watched some American TV on iTunes.

Friday was supposed to be productive, but it wasn't. I went to school and Marissa happened to be there, so we abandoned work in favor of just talking and then eventually coffee. And then suddenly it was 3:30 and she and Liz had to go to the hair salon near our apartment for their appointments. Marissa saw one of her friends on the cover of a TIGI Bedhead styling book and got really excited. And she got more excited when her new hairstyle was finished. She wasn't as excited as I was about the fact that the salon people hired her ON-THE-SPOT to do a photo shoot with them in April for those hairstyle portraits salons like to hang up. She, Liz, and I ate the ragu I had made the other night. After dinner, Marissa left and Liz, Henk, and Juan and I went to go play "one" (three) game(s) of pool. Around midnight, Marissa and I went over to Jack's to hang out with him and Prima. We thought they were drunk, but they were just basking in foodgasm. (Eyes rolled back, drained of energy, lying on the couch. Like Thanksgiving.) Prima fell asleep, and I don't know what exactly happened but Jack, Marissa and I talked about a myriad of random topics, and it was suddenly four in the morning.

Saturday is laidback so far. I woke up when my parents called to say hi and then grabbed lunch with Giuseppe at Trattoria di Rocco in the market near our house. And here's this written-too-fast-without-any-pictures update. I promise lots of pictures in the near future and less parentheses.

Florence still rules, thanks.

Tuesday I noticed in pictures that my hair was getting shaggy, so I stopped by the haircutting place on my street. I told them to “leave it as long as possible but clean it up” since I didn’t want it short until spring on the 20th. But they cut it all off.

That’s cool. I can deal. Plus my friends’ reactions are varied but generally positive. And entertaining. “You look good/younger/Asian/Italian.”

When I got home, Giuseppe immediately brought up dinner. His idea, like always, was Chinese food from the place down the street. Works for me.

Later that night, after power naps and some iTuning, we went to our favorite “cultural assocation” to meet up with Juan and Henk to play some pool and be there for Marissa’s debut as Iceland’s Next Top Bartender. Naturally, Helen and Prima were there too. Joe and Liz showed up for a bit. As did Jack. Prima seems keen on adding another “roommates team” to our league, but her apartment doesn’t have enough players. Our apartment’s foosball record against Jack and Juan is now 4:3.


Cesare was playing acoustic guitar that night. What a great artist. His repertoire of covers is eclectic, but everything sounded great. He had most of us singing and/or dancing along.

Wednesday I slept in until grabbing lunch with Henk at Nerbone, a trattoria in the Mercato Centrale. Salsicce e fagiolo. (Sausage and beans, a classic pairing.) Delicious.

Food writing was devoted to the process of laying out pages in a cookbook. We had a guest lecturer, a photography and graphic design professor. The president/founder of the school stopped by for another impromptu visit for an update on our semester project.

Italian was distracting. The soundtrack for the day was ‘70s and ‘80s disco hip-hop. Oh, and the lesson plan was occupations and three and four digit numbers.

Lisa and I invited her friend Caroline and my roommates to join us in our dinner at Pizzaiuolo where she and I finally got something we’d been discussing for the past month: DEEP-FRIED CALZONES.

My roommates and I went from there to the “cultural association” to meet up with the same crowd from the night before, sans Liz and Joe. The cologne Henk bought in Paris last weekend pretty much elicited the reaction Axe commercials pretend Axe has. The girls flocked to him like moths to a flame. Prima was on him all night. For serious.

Thursday our cooking class got the best recipe so far. It’s famous worldwide but originates from the region known as Emiglia Romana. LASAGNE. I cannot describe how good it was. We made everything from scratch using fresh, authentic ingredients. And it was just a basic lasagne too. Freshly made pasta, Padana Grana cheese, Bechamel sauce, and a beef, pork, and porcini mushroom ragu.

The teacher from next door stopped in. (I thought to yell at us for being loud in our excitement, but that wasn’t the reason.) She proposed a joint session next week. So our “Food & Society” class and her “Wine Exploration” class are pretty much going to merge into the best class EVER next week. Eating, drinking, socializing, and exploring. What’s not to love?

Food photography. Our on-location assignments around the city were cancelled due to inclement weather, so we spent the afternoon cropping and selecting pictures for our portfolios. It was nice to not have to walk around in the cold, but it wasn’t nice to not have the option to eat/drink all afternoon. I snapped this on the way home:

That night, Jack and my friends’ dreams were realized. We, the two culinary students, made dinner together. Dinner for twelve. And it gets better. Our friend Eddie volunteered his expertise, pantry, and knife set to help us out. So the group got three culinary students working for the price of two. Or rather for the price of free since Jack and I bought all the food that Eddie didn’t bring in his goodie bag. When I got to Jack’s apartment (after a month of supposed-to-go-ness), we planned the menu and then went to his neighborhood supermarket to get everything. Oh, and their apartment is amazing. If it had a single bedroom option, I would totally try to live there next semester.

Cooking dinner was quite fun and entertaining. While Jack and I went food shopping, Eddie started whipping egg whites and preparing antipasti and contorni.

By night’s end, Jack came to the conclusion that, had we a professional kitchen and professional equipment, we could open a restaurant. Eddie seriously had to MacGyver a lot of kitchen stuff. He burned a broken tray (like a car radiator) so we could bake in it. Turned a garlic bag into a makeshift cheesecloth. Et cetera. We almost had to find a wire hanger and turn that into a whisk. Luckily by the time the girls got there, we had cleaned the place up.


Although we lacked tools, there was no lack of friendly help. Juan, Giuseppe, and Anton were all ready and willing to beat, chop, and slice-and-dice (respectively) anything we asked them. And we had Daft Punk blasting on the iPod, which I think is excellent cooking music.

We started cooking around 8:00, served dinner around 10, and finished around 1. It was a true Italian style meal: Late, relaxed, and with lots of wine.

Our final menu was:

• Tortilla chips and guacamole
• Minestrone
• Pan-fried garlic crostini
• Artichoke and rosemary risotto
• Pepper/lemon/basil-marinated beef rolled with prosciutto
• Tiramisu

Juan had brought some Yerba Mate from Argentina, which is an excellent tea about as strong as coffee. So that was a nice way to wash everything down.

I thought I was just impressed that we made everything and nothing went wrong. (Especially since we made minestrone and tiramisu in less than half the time you’re supposed to.) But according to all our eaters, everything went really, really well. And now we’re painted into a corner we’ll probably have to do several repeat performances.

And yeah, it was a really fun night. Easily the best night I’ve had in Florence even though we didn’t go out. Good food. Good drinks. Good music. Good company. Good times.

Henk and I stopped into our neighborhood Latin bar for a little dancing and caipirinhas before bedtime. Those were nice night caps.

Friday Yesterday morning at noon Henk and I got up and went to the “eat-all-you-can” Japanese restaurant for lunch. Mmm. After an afternoon of digesting and my mandatory weekly Lost episode, we went to aperitivo at another bar. Which will probably become my favorite aperitivo bar. The place is nice, the food spicy (probably to encourage drinking, but it doesn’t phase me), the liquor quality, the drinks strong and well-mixed, and the bartenders amazing. By amazing, I mean they have the kind of flair you see on The Food Network or Travel Channel.

We went to the cultural association to play foosball and pool. Marissa was working again. Liz and Anna met up with us, and we introduced them to the friends we’d made at pool, Paule and Adam. A few rounds later, the l’auberge Italienne crowd (Liz, Anna, Henk, and I) went off to a Russian bar for gyros and beer both good and cheap.

Saturday This morning I went to the hospital for my appointment with the orthopedic doctor re: my knee. It’s been a month since the injury. There is no damage to the ACL, but there may be minor damage to one edge of the meniscus. We decided the best course of action would be to get an MRI (and any resulting arthroscopic surgery) back in the states. The surgery isn’t urgent and wouldn’t require a recovery period of longer than two weeks. But two weeks of not walking and then a week on crutches would do some serious damage to my semester, academic and extracurricular.

But hey, all that aside, I have a clean bill of health! Party on.

Liz, Liane, Anna, Henk, and I went to a late lunch at I Ghibellini before they went off to the Uffizi. I decided to go to the bar and post all this. And then I’m going to rest up because tonight most of the gang is returning from Rome and we’re all supposed to go out on the town.

And now we’re caught up back to the present. But surely not for long.

week's off to a good start

Saturday was relaxed. As was Sunday. I’m really glad I wrote about that inane Brad Pitt conversation the other day because on our way to the market, Liz found this:

I know. It’s like God sent her a giant postcard. I would never have allowed her to pick up something off the street and put it in our building, let alone on her bed. But knowing how much it meant to her, I did.

That night, Giuseppe and I went to the cultural association and got a couple of drinks. After that I stopped by The Pucker Party at Twentyone, where I didn’t see any familiar faces this time. But I made a new friend or two. It’s called “Pucker Party” because you were supposed to “get pucked up” and make out with someone in front of the bartender for free shots.

Sunday was chill. Liz and I spent the afternoon wandering around. We crossed the Ponte Vecchio and walked in hilly neighborhoods across the river. That night I went out to dinner and spent as much time walking to dinner as I did dining. I guess it’s about time to introduce Lisa? She’s in most of my classes and my partner in the writing and photography projects. She’s cool, and she’s a little older than me, which is nice because sometimes I feel like the voice of reason among I’m coming from a different perspective than all the junior-year-abroaders here. Our assignment for the week was a restaurant review (of a specific place, Sabatino). Of course, because it was Sunday, it was closed. And we kept wanting certain other restaurants, so we went to like four more. And they were all closed. We wound up at a place by my house, . After dinner, Liz, Liane, Jess, Anna, Aneet, and I went out to Moyo for drinks. The blondes and I stopped into the cultural association for some quick shots. It was a fun night.

Monday’s classes flew by and were pretty good. It was molecular gastronomy day in Food Styling. We “fried eggs” without pans, oil, or actual eggs.

The "yolk" was made of orange, lemon, and carrot juices and the white of banana yogurt. We also made “caviars” out of those juices and green apple juice. Through the magic of molecular gastronomy, the yolk and the caviar both had a thin membrane that when broken released the thickened liquid inside. Very cool.

Our other work for the day was an amuse-bouche: Bruschetta in a teaspoon. We changed the textures of all the typical ingredients (tomato, olive oil, garlic-rubbed bread) except basil. The taste when you finish eating is exactly the same although the chewing experience is quite different.

Graphic design was another “series” project. In this case, ten slides of the numbers 0-9. I finished them all, but some could use refining. I’d post a few, but they’re saved on the lab computer at school.

That night, it was “Lisa and Andrew go to dinner, take two.” We met at the Ponte Vecchio again and then recruited Jack, who lives in the neighborhood of our restaurant. Sabatino was good. It was nice to go out to eat with two foodies/classmates because we discussed the entire meal (regarding tastes, textures, techniques, etc) way more in-depth than average people ever would. Alongside all that critique was approval though. Good dishes. Good times.

too much randomness

Yesterday was laidback until about dinnertime. I forgot to mention this phone call I made to Prima on Thursday night.

“Hello.”
“Mi princesa, it’s Andrew!
“Hey!!! What’s up?”
“Not much, Jack and I are just hanging out and figured we’d call to see how you were doing since we haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Who?”
“Jack and I.”
“Who you with???”
“Jack.”
“Who’s Jack?!”
"Jack!"
"Jack???"
“Um, Mr. Blondie?”
“MR. BLONDIE!!! TELL HIM I SAY HI!”

So this led to a plan for last night night which evolved from dinner-out to drinks-at-a-bar to aperitivo to ultimately pizza-and-poker-at-Prima’s. Jack, whose real name Prima apparently doesn’t know and whose hair isn’t even blonde, and I went over there with Liz and one of her friends. Prima, Helen, and Juan were there waiting for us and Marissa eventually got home from her job interview with the owner of Loch Ness.

The pizza wasn’t amazing but the sriracha Jack carries in his backpack(?) helped it along. It was the only delivery number we had available. Good thing we had booze.

Apparently Liz and I cannot be friends in terms of pop culture. She hated Brokeback Mountain but loved Troy? AND she hates Billy Joel but loves Hilary Duff??? Since my mind was warped by this and I wasn't interested in the discussion of Troy (i.e. Brad Pitt's ass and pits), I went upstairs to the terrace to watch the others play poker and eventually subbed in for Prima. I had brought cards but not chips, so we used beans for currency. [Insert offensive Mexican joke here.]

Eventually Marissa, Helen, Jack, Juan, and I went to Angie’s Pub to get more drinks. Aneet and Jess met up with us there. Prima stayed home, and Liz went home to do crunches while listening to the Lizzie McGuire soundtrack because she’s lame. (I love Liz. Really. I tease because I love.)

You know in Peter Pan how you need a happy thought to fly? Apparently Marissa was badly in need of one last night, so after striking out twice I was able to offer a successful one: Brazilian booty. As in, the kind we’ll see tonight when we go to Maracana. Apparently Marissa is also a fan of those firm, healthy cheeks and “just wants to bite them.” I’m not making any of this up, by the way. I’m not that creative.

Eventually I walked Aneet and Jess to get gelato so Aneet could satisfy that third of her gelato-diet coke-Nutella food pyramid. (“Oh my God, you guys. I went up a whole size from a double zero to a ZERO!”) And then I went with them to Twice to do a little dancing. Aneet batted her eyes at the bouncers who let us in through the smoking lounge door rather than make us wait thirty minutes in line to get through the front door.

I left a little earlier than them and on my way home ran into the others at Salamanca, but we didn’t stay long at all and went home. Helen called me “smug boy” since I live six seconds away and was smirking as they planned their routes home.