Tuesday, February 10, 2009

an update!

Wow, now I remember why it’s so hard to keep up with updates here. It’s been an eventful week.

Saturday 1/31/09

Saturday night we made dinner for the Signoria girls, Sergio, and Domenico. (I believe this invitation or self-invitation – can’t remember which – was made in drunkenness a previous night.) It went pretty well. Orrechiette con pesto, pasta puttanesca, and risotto di asparagi. Since we wanted to introduce the ladies to some Italian flavors, I was in charge of the meal. I decided to honor Kelsey’s vegetarianism, but next time we know better. Everything tasted good, and Domenico, who’s from the south, approved of the orrechiette, so that was a good sign. Hmmm, what else? The guys brought lots of wine, which we drank. And the girls brought strawberry tarts, which were bite-size and nicely sweet. A certain blonde also exclaimed in the middle of dinner “Oh, I just got that!” … “that” being the reason we call Miles “Kilometers.”

Sunday 2/1/09

Despite a long night of barhopping the night before, Sunday was all about the Superbowl. Sergio threw a Superbowl (aka Steelers Fans Only) party at the bar. I suggested the not-so-bright idea of one-shot-per-touchdown, which was extended into take-a-sip-for-every-good-play. The Signoria girls and Ghibellina’s girl were both there. As was Tina! Good times. Naturally, The Steelers’ win turned the bar upside down that night. I knew things were done and finished with when Antonio asked ME to make him a drink. We closed out the bar, proceeded to stay there all night, and left around sunrise.

Monday 2/2/09

Unfortunately, Monday did not start off so well. When Adrian and I got back to the apartment, we found a very disoriented Miles in the lobby. Apparently he had been mugged when he walked home alone. He was also bleeding from the head. So we brought him to the hospital. I called his parents, cancelled his cell phone, and tried to cancel his debit card to no avail. Don’t worry. He had to get stitches and a CAT scan, but he’s fine. So I spent pretty much all of Monday in the waiting room and in Miles’ room. I unfortunately am well acquainted with this hospital. But sitting in a waiting room where people are being told their loved ones have passed away or that they have terminal cancer, you can’t help feeling grateful for your health and that your past hospital visits have been relatively minor. Also props to the patient doctors, nurses, and receptionists who deal with this sort of the thing every day. I found it exhausting just being there watching everything go on. Anyway, by the early evening, Miles was conscious and talking again. He was complaining about having to stay overnight despite feeling fine, so I knew he was okay.

I just want to say that I’m shocked as everyone else is that this happened. And Firenze is a very safe and walking city. That being said, in my year of being here, I’ve only heard of incidents like this happening twice. And both times it involved someone who was walking home, (1) very very late at night, (2) by himself, and (3) visibly intoxicated. So don’t do those things in combination and ideally don’t do them at all.

Tuesday 2/3/09

At this point, between the jet lag, Superbowl party, the 24 hours of not sleeping, Miles and the hospital, and etc… I had a very messed up sleep schedule. This was probably in honor of Tom’s birthday. (Last semester, he usually slept from dawn to dusk.) Happy birthday, Tom, by the way. I woke up early enough to greet him at midnight his time.

So Emo must think his new roommates never sleep because we’re up till four, up again at eight, and then he’s gone in the afternoon when we’re asleep again. Miles and I are convinced there’s some mystery noise that wakes us up at eight in the morning like an alarm. But we’ve always either never been awake before eight or home to find out exactly what it is.

Anyway, I woke up to a note from Tanjila asking me, in honor of The Borgasm, please NOT to call my new apartment The Pergasm. So I’ve decided on calling it Pergotory or Il Pergotorio. (Dante, anyone?) Because it’s not quite the Heaven or Paradiso that was the Borgasm, but it’s certainly not the Hell or Inferno of real life.

I’ve had my first classes, but I’ll write about them later this week to save time and spice. (I’ll make one exception for Thursday.) Congrats to Andrea. He wasn’t in class on Tuesday because he was at the hospital becoming a father.

Miles was released from the hospital and came home safe and sound.

Wednesday 2/4/09

Miles was up and running. He made curried eggs and espresso for breakfast.

I had class all day and then we went over to The Signore Della Signoria’s apartment for dinner. (They insisted on cooking for us as a thank-you for Saturday.) So they made salad, pasta, and chicken. Delicious. One of them almost drank a glass of balsamic vinegar, mistaking the bottle for one of wine. They've also decided when they leave Italy, they're going to form "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Furry Vodka Bottle." So I would start calling them that, but it's a bit too long.

We had an excessive amount of wine, so we taught Sergio pretty much every drinking game there is that involves cards: Fuck the dealer; Up the river, down the river; Fuck you; Fuck you, pyramid; Horserace; Kings, etc

“Now I know why Americans are always drunk,” he said. “And why your apartment [i.e. The Borgasm] always comes to the bar at 1am.”

Miles and I actually went home “early” (after midnight), a bit tired from classes and the mayhem of earlier in the week. It sounds like the only thing we missed out on was a bunch of drunken drama, so it was probably a wise decision on our part.

Thursday 2/5/09

Have you noticed how well we’re eating this semester? Chalk it up to living with an actual culinary student who actually wants to be a chef. Breakfast was pain perdue (or “French toast”) with candied pears, wine reduction, and toasted almonds.

So I had two classes on Thursday, but one of them only meets every other week. So I’ll write about it now. The subject is “Italian Cakes.” I’m taking it because my pastry skills are severely lacking. Last semester was The Dream Schedule and this semester is All The Things Andrew Should Actually Learn. The chef who teaches it is named Mario, and he’s really cool. He’s young, humble, friendly. There are only two other students in the class, both girls. So he told me early on that I need to step it up and represent. That day was all Tuscan baked goods, and we divided up the work; we made schiacciata (sponge cake), ricciarelli (soft almond cookies that I was in charge of), and the famous cantuccini from Prato (the ones you dip in Vin Santo).

Anyway, the girls and I agreed this would probably be our favorite class. Partly because of the pastries, partly because of Mario. I actually made a huge mistake and folded egg yolks instead of egg whites into some dough, but he found a way to salvage it. “I’m not making this face because I want to kill you. I’m making this face because I’m trying to figure out how to fix this. That’s what we do in a kitchen when we have a problem... We don’t get angry or give up, we find a way to solve it.” Oh, and did I mention that he works at a certain, amazing one-star Michelin restaurant here in Florence that I may or may not have been to with Alex, Molly, and Val last semester and love? I might actually learn something about pastry.

That night was the Welcome Party at the bar. Paola, the chef who replaced me, rolled out quite an impressive feast: Chicken curry rice, chick pea and tuna salad, mussel and clam pasta, sautéed spinach, rigatoni and penne pastas, a fresh vegetable platter, a mixed bean salad. The list goes on and on.

Friday 2/6/09

Adrian and I watched LOST. (It’s so good. Okay. Enough.) And we made a nice Filipino breakfast. Ligo sardines in tomato and hot pepper sauce, fried eggs, and Aeri’s remaining sushi rice.

I had to go to school and take an exam from Andrea (which unfortunately was written and not practical) in order to get into a higher-level Italian Food class. It was all about risotto, and extra virgin olive oil, and Parmigiano-Reggiano, and bluefish, and cod, and lard, and prosciutto. I passed!

Adrian and I celebrated with lunch at this sandwich place that I love and he’s always wanted to go to. Best meatball subs ever. Afterwards, he, Miles, and I went to run errands. Miles and I bought new wallets at the market because we’re both prone to theft. (I to pickpocket-ry and he to mugging. See Monday.) Adrian bought a guitar! So the sound of music has been echoing in our apartment since. Miles and I get along really well because all we do is talk about food all day. While Adrian went guitar shopping, he and I just walked around a grocery. Not buying. Just talking.

We met up with Sergio for dinner because Miles wanted to give bistecca Fiorentina a try, and I’m pretty sure he approved. We spent the rest of the night at the wine bar by The Borgasm and barhopping with Cary and her friends, who live nearby. The Porcellan Dolls.

Saturday 2+7=09

Saturday was pretty chilled out because I don’t remember much of it. I’m pretty sure we all slept in.

Adrian, Miles and I went out for lunch – sushi and tempura. Now anyone who reads this probably knows I don’t like fish that much but love sushi because it’s light and subtly flavored and I can eat a lot of it. And I really enjoy it for lunch after a heavy night of drinking, which is a habit I picked up at Tulane. And I don't eat tempura as often but I love it even more because it reminds me how much my parents love me. [When I was really young, I used to love tempura like crazy. My parents, being fresh out of college, didn't have all that much money so they'd bring me to Union Station to gorge on it at a reasonably-priced place there. And only when I'd finish, they'd eat the leftovers.]

So jumping ahead to the next meal before get teary-eyed, Sergio took Adrian and I out to dinner to a nice restaurant he used to work for. I got some smoked goose breast for an appetizer, a grilled young rooster alla diavolo, and for dessert some sacher torte (which I theoretically know how to make because of chocolate class last semester).
Adrian wasn’t feeling well and went home, but Sergio and I went out with some other girls. I don’t know if we’ll see them again and I don’t know where they live. So they don’t get a nickname.

Sunday 2/8/09

Adrian and I went to Sunday mass and then afterwards picked up Miles to go last-minute grocery shopping. (Practically everywhere here is closed on Sunday afternoon/evening.)

We picked up some merenda in the form of kebabs from a place near our house. Our friend Mustafa actually owns it.

The roommates of Pergotory (including Emo!) all had a nice dinner that night – beef/pork meatballs with balsamic reduction and risotto alla Parmigiana. We spent the rest of the evening playing card games. We taught Miles and Emo [Presidents &]Asshole[s] and more importantly RUMMY500. Anyone from The Borgasm knows this game took up approximately 75% of our sober time and probably at least 25% of our drunk time. We use the whiteboard in our kitchen to keep score. If Kyle were still our roommate, it would have been great for Pictionary.

Monday 2/9/09

Miles and I went to school this morning to reserve some spots on a few trips for the semester, but neither of us did because the lady in charge trips was out sick. So we went to the market instead to buy groceries. But we were distracted by our hunger, so first I introduced Miles to Our Lady of Lampredotto. And he now shares in my passion for those meaty, spicy sandwiches.

I spent the afternoon just chilling out because I wasn’t feeling that well. We had a merenda of dried kiwis and raw cashews that we’d bought earlier. We played rummy with the roommates again. And Miles made a great dinner tonight too. Red-wine braised rabbit and roasted squash and figs with truffled honey. Miles and I have decided we want to learn to make a main course from every protein possible before the end of the semester. Dessert was a yellow melon mostly because Miles and I saw them at the market and couldn’t remember ever trying one.

I went to our neighborhood Irish pub to hang out with my friend Michele, who bartenders there. A few pints later Miles and his friend Jacky showed up, so we taught her how to bomb a car. When Sergio and Adrian showed up, all six of us did a few shots. We went barhopping again. Saw Antonio, Joe, Marc, and Ciccio. We ran into Gianni, the owner of a trattoria we frequent. He gave Miles and me their recipe for trippa alla Fiorentina, so that’s probably going to be on our dinner menu in the near future. When the bars closed, we hit up a late-night kebab place and then called it a night.

In closing
If you’ve made it this far, thank you. I’ll try to write both more often and more briefly in the future.

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