Firenze

Happy birthday, Nick. Belated happy, Adam.

It was a good weekend. Saturday night, we went out for Nick’s birthday. Nick is one of “The Triplets” that live across in the river in Jack and Juan’s former apartment. He, Adam, and Alex (my old roommate Giuseppe’s younger brother) are “The Triplets” because “they’re all kind of the same person.” But not in a bad way. They love to go out, party, and pick up girls. That sounds like every guy our age, but they have more in common than just that. Cool guys though.
Anyway, so the three of them and all of us roommates (except Adrian who along with his visitors Neely and Aly were tired from a day of sightseeing) went out to celebrate. I guess this is a good time to say that we have a thirteenth roommate named Marlene, a little bit of Latina fire from New York. She was practically living here already because her other roommates weren’t as much fun I guess? But she officially moved in, paperwork and all, the other day.

Jesse, who enjoys baking more than cooking, made dark chocolate birthday cakes for Nick and for Adam (whose birthday was like the second night we got here). They were delicious, and Adam’s was slightly mangled but then took on a mountain theme because he’s a climber anyway. Afterwards we all went out to my (now our) favorite bar and got shots and bought Nick drinks and got pretty messy. Sergio was there, and he and Kyle finally met after hearing so much about each other and were surprised at how actually cool the other was and not just the product of exaggeration. Eventually, as the drink numbers increased, the party numbers waned, and we all split off. Sergio, his friend Rose, Sal, and I went to another club for a bit. But I stayed only for one round, courtesy of Serg. I went off to find Sal and he called me and told me he got lost and wound up at The Duomo, so we just met up at home. People here were in various states of... functionality, the more functional ones babysitting a little bit.

Me and my Daydream

Sunday I thought the sin of the day would be sloth, but mine turned out to be gluttony. We all got up late to really late. Some of us went to the bar to get some free internet. The same mass-goers as last week (Marlene, Lisa, Gerard, Sal, Nick, Adrian, and myself) all planned to go but ended up losing track of time and missing the one English mass across town. We’ll fix that next week probably. And just when I thought I’d do nothing all day, I started eating a lot. On the way home from the bar, Tom and I stopped for kebabs. And then some time later I had a bowl of cereal and donated the remains of a bottle of red wine to Gerard’s stew. And then I went with Jesse to her favorite falafel place. And then I came home and had some of Gerard’s stew. And then I showed Adrian the falafel place, and he tried a kebab from there and an egg sandwich, and I bit off some of each. And then I came home and had more of Gerard’s stew and pieces of Deidre’s orange and apple.

And Deidre, Sal, Gerard, Lisa/I (forming a team who’d trade off), played two games of Rummy500. I was winning most of the first game, probably due to the fact I was the only innocent one not affected by the these-are-stolen-cards karma. But Sal won both games. We sat at the dining table originally just singing whatever and changing words around to make the songs aout our roommates, and when that got old Sal brought out his laptop and playlists.
Around 11:30 at night, the entire apartment came to life and everyone either woke up or came home and people were milling around. Everyone went to bed late.

Gerard also made use of the random scroll paper all over our dining table by marking it as “Scripture” and beginning to inscribe all the quotable stupid things people have been saying. It won’t take long to fill up between the twelve of us.

The rest of Monday was pretty much just my chocolates and confections class. We made cremino-filled chocolates. (Cremino is a hazelnut cream made of hazelnut paste and white, milk, or dark chocolate. I love dark chocolate, but it overwhelms the nuttiness in filling. White is a good contrast to the dark chocolate shell. Milk is the best taste on its own... like Nutella.) After that, I stopped by the Chinese take-out place in my old neighborhood on the way home. I spent the rest of the evening reading (and finishing) Rosemary’s Baby, which is in our rather sizable library of books-left-by-previous-tenants, the majority of which being Florence or travel books.
We played Rummy500 again, Jesse playing instead of Sal. Team Lisandrew won, despite the jeers from Team Diedrian (Adrian was on Die’s team in spirit). We left the TV on to watch shows in Italian, which got pretty amusing. Some time after midnight, Tom and Alex came home, so Vanessa, Kyle, Adrian and I hung out with them in the kitchen. We all got hungry, so Tom donated his ingredients to my care. Red bell peppers, tomatoes, ground beef, Parmesan cheese, and pasta became… a pasta. My olive oil and Vanessa’s fresh basil helped a lot too. After everyone else went to bed, Kyle and I just talked a bit while he drew for art class. I changed his world with our discussion of the magic of aperitivo. He also said he’d help me with lighting and stuff for fashion photography, so that’s a major relief.

Today has been pretty uneventful. I wasn’t feeling well, so I missed Mediterranean Diet’s Pasta with Chick Peas and Cod with oregano and sun-dried tomatoes. Along with Vegetarian Cooking’s market trip, which Sal and Diedre assured me wasn’t that epic anyway. I figured I should take today easy rather than be sick tomorrow and miss Fashion Photography and Pairing Food and Wine, the two classes I’m least experienced in anyway.

I walked to Jesse’s Egyptian falafel place, unaware it was closed for siesta time during the afternoon. I just chilled at home and got some actual studying done and then met up with Adrian for sushi aperitivo at the wine bar near our house. Vanessa and Tom eventually joined me. (Adrian left to go see Tristana et al.) After a few glasses of wine and several shots of Swedish liquor Cristian brought back from Sweden, my head is swimming. I’m writing from The Triplets’ Apartment (aka Jack, Juan, and Anton’s old apartment) where we’re eating Pringles, watching Half-Baked, and eating the eggs and buttered toast Alex cooked. And I’m catching up with Jack and Sarah. And Aneet. And Liane. And Anna. Man, I miss them.

rest of Chicago week

So our weekend in Chicago was over, and it was Monday and off to the airport. Lauren and Ryanne were getting on flights, David was driving back to Michigan, and I was taking the train to the city to Mikey’s place. We dropped Lauren off first, then Ryanne and I got out and wished David a safe drive, and – rather anticlimactically – Ryanne and I told each other “see you on Saturday!”

After settling into Mikey’s new apartment, I met up with Nicole and her friend – and now mine – Therese. We did happy hour at Harry Caray’s and then Murkel’s. Mikey met up with us for dinner and drinks at Wilde, named for the author and delicious. One of Oscar’s wonderful quotes was painted on a wall: “After a good dinner one can forgive anybody, even one’s own relatives.” True story. The night after that is a bit of a blur, a pub crawl involving Sidetrack, Minibar, Scarlet, Hydrate, Roscoe’s.

Tuesday, we were supposed to go to breakfast but we ended up just lounging around his apartment for hours before he treated me to lunch at The Zodiac Room above Neiman Marcus. So good. So good. We went to the Signature Lounge on top of the Hancock Building for cocktails, but it was so cloudy we couldn’t see anything. So we went to Duffy’s to split a bottle of wine and then went to get more drinks at a bar I can’t recall the name of with his friend Nikki, Nicole, Gisela, and Sarah (from Italy, aka Madonna-Original) and one of her friends. ‘Sela, Nicole, Mikey, and I grabbed dinner at his favorite Japanese restaurant. The ladies called it a night, and Mike and I spent the night drinking PITCHERS – courtesy of a generous friend of his – of vodka sodas at Cocktail, the bar across his apartment.

Wednesday, Mikey went to work and I met up with another Lauren (aka Rosie of PCBaywatch fame). She suggested Ada’s, a “great Jewish deli.” How very Tulane of us. It was awesome. We went to Argo to grab some tea, the mate latte made me think of Juan and Italy. She had to go back to suburbia after, but Nicole, Jack, and I went for some cocktails. Signature Room, redux. On a clear day, you can see FOUR STATES from the view. Amazing. We met up with Mike and ‘Sela for a diner dinner at Clark’s. Jack and I, in our quest for waffles, had been discussing a meal there for four months, so it was nice to finally fulfill that dream. We picked up a few bottles of DOCG Chianti and went to a hookah bar and smoked the rest of the night away. A perfect chill way to end a great, eventful visit.

pack your knives and go.

Tuesday was full of errands. The most important of which was a visit to Valentina to work out my next semester here. So much easier than the first application process! The evening started with aperitivo at Kitsch that was supposed to involve a dozen people but ended up being only Sarah, Thomas, and myself because everyone else was being lame. But we didn’t let a lack of participation curb the fun. After a few drinks and plates of food, we went to meet up with Sergio, drink some more, and play pool.

Wednesday after making lunch in an attempt to finish off my ingredients left in the kitchen, I watched Rosso Come Cielo, which I’d borrowed from Southern Anna. We had our Food Writing final exam at the school’s new cultural association and from there, I went to campus for my Italian final. Then it was back to the cultural association for the book launch aperitivo my food writing class had scheduled. I stopped by Swedish aperitivo to say ciao to Isabel, Antonio, and the regulars at the bar and then went to Hilary and Risa’s last cocktail party. But Hilary left to meet her mother as I was arriving, so Risa and I, gradually joined by others, drank the night away before going barhopping.

Thursday was the final exam of my last cooking class of the semester, Claudio asked us what we wanted to make. Chicken breast florentine and panna cotta (with a season-inappropriate chocolate sauce) won the vote last week, so we made them. He approved. Food photography was just a final review of our portfolio. My professor said he’d let me into his fashion photography class next semester if I wanted in. Hell yeah.

The farewell party was so awesome. We had it at Villa Pandolfini as guests of Count Pandolfini. Yes. We were at a count’s house. And by house I mean palazzo. And by palazzo I mean a palazzo designed by Donatello. DONATELLO. Really awesome. Lots of food, lots of wine, all the students, all the teachers, a few awards, a band. The police. (They came to check out the noise situation, so watching two of my professors talk to them similar to the way Jack and Juan did the other week was quite amusing. Different outcome though. The police just left.) It was nice to get all semiformal with all the other students and drink and relax with all the faculty. Afterwards, Ross, Nick, Sarah, and I went off to a nightclub where the unofficial after-party was. We all got home past four in the morning, so yeah. It was a fun night.

Friday was a day dedicated to the word ciao. When I got up in the morning, I went to the gym and said ciao to the owner. He’d discounted the last few weeks for me and set my day of departure as the day my membership expired. He told me he’d await my return in the fall. Then before going home I stopped by the “eat-all-you-can” sushi restaurant and said ciao to the hostess/waitress lady there. I bet she and the sushi chef threw a party after I left since I’ve been putting them out of business for a few months now. I stopped by the FUA campus to say goodbye to Francesca and Marian at the front desk and library. After a phone call with my mom and a brief nap, I woke up to Henk and Juan in the apartment. Henk had asked me if we could have a party, and I’d agreed. And now he asked me if I could prepare “some aperitivo” for it while they sanded and painted the wall. So that was fun because we actually closed all three of the kitchen’s doors for once. (Between the four burners, stove, steaming pots, and infusing olive oil the place was like a sauna!) But it was a nice challenge to take all the leftover ingredients from our pantry. This is what I came up with:

• Tris of crostini: mixed jams, cannelini bean spread, egg saladPenne with red and green onions, garlic, and herb butter
• “Meat and potato” tortellini with rosemary infused olive oil
• French fries with honey garlic aioli
• Tropical trail mix
• Fresh strawberries and dark chocolate
• Gianduja torte and layered petit fours
• And of course beer, wine, and sweet liquors.

By the time all that was set up, a few people had arrived and Juan and Henk had showered, so I took one. And by the time I was out of it, it was more like an apartment full of people. No joke, never seen more people in our apartment. At least forty people came and went the entire time. At least. It was fun, drinking, reminiscing, mocking, and exchanging contact information.

I had made appointments with some of my other beloved Italians, so I left a little earlier than Henk and the die-hards who stuck around late. I stopped by the trattoria around its closing time of midnight to say goodbye to the owner and waitresses there. They even kissed me goodbye and told me best wishes in Italian. Aw. Then it was to the bar to say ciao to Isabel but Antonio, the other bartender, was nowhere in sight. Isabel and I said we’d visit each other in Florence and Milan next season. And of course, I had to stop by the cultural association to say goodbye to Sergio and Trine. Lucky for me Domenico, Miko, and Antonio all showed up – as I’d expected – so I had a chance to see them. Dom and Mik might leave the city before I get back, but they both plan on coming to the states eventually so I’m not worried. I also got to say goodbye to a girl named Lauren I met a couple of nights ago who’s coming up on her second week in Florence and she already doesn’t want to leave. It’s nice to hand over the burden of everyday partying to someone. A few million shots later courtesy of my generous Italian friends, I went back to the apartment and grabbed my bags and met the girls to take the drunk bus van to the airport.