Noooo!!! Don’t Bring FaceBook to Dinner

Full moon, clear skies, linen covered tables, delectable dinners and twinkle lights like little stars flicker over the patio. Traditional concertino music wafted in from the concert down the block. A perfect night at Medusa, one of our favorite seafood restaurants in San Salvo Marino.

Jack, I whispered, look around. Notice anything odd?

Whaaat? Jack bellowed his favorite response to anything I ask. What am I supposed to see?

The evil FaceBook blue light of enticement, addiction and control. That’s what.

Whaaat? Get over the phone on the table fixation.

Maybe, I am fixated on groups of people who don’t talk. The first time I saw a couple eating dinner and each reading a book, I was horrified. Why aren’t they talking? Who could go out to dinner and not talk? It was beyond my comprehension. Now, I see it all the time. At Medusa I saw –

Two 50-something well dressed women sipping wine, sharing a seafood antipasti and each reading FaceBook.

A family of three each eating their own pizza and slopping tomatoes on their Facebook linked phones.

An older elegant couple – like Jack and I – eating cozze, mussels cooked in a touch of white wine, staring at their telephones.

Nonna, nonno, mom, pop and one baby were all staring at cell phones. Yup, the moment they sat down, the mom plopped a hand held device in front of the kid.

I could go on and on and on. There were only three groups – four if you count Jack and I – out of about 20 tables that were not glued to their fakakata phones. There were the two men and their adorable dog who chatted away. The couple with the not so adorable 3 year old who they had to chase all over the patio. Lastly, a young family of mom, dad and two sons. The boys were both under 8 or 9 and were chatting about their day at the beach.

This addiction to FaceBook at Italian dining tables is troublesome on so many levels. The silence is deafening. No one listens to the joys and tribulations of the day because they are commenting on pictures of flowers, food and other people’s babies. Over the past few years the FaceBook ferver has grown and grown. I fear that the stereotypical loud Italian conversations will soon fade to key taps.

When we are in the USA, I don’t notice as many phones out on restaurant tables. Have you seen an increase in diminished conversation and growing table side telephone staring? Am I the only person who finds this FaceBook addiction unnerving?

Frankly, I don’t understand the need for Facebook. Somehow we all got along before the social media pipeline sucked us in.

I hear you. I hear you. Yup, this blog has a FaceBook page. Yup, I use it to let people know about Pontelandolfo and our program Cooking in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo. Yup, I post links to The NY Times in hopes that those who suck on the teat of fake news websites will read something a bit more valid. Yup, I spend about 1\2 an hour a day checking my notifications and my pages. Yup, the fact that I too have a FaceBook account makes me culpable.

But it doesn’t make me not stare at the ocean, while dining at an outdoor cafe or ignore the people I’m out to lunch with.

Rant is over. Let me know what you think. Maybe I am fixated.

Ci Vediamo.

Vivaldi Rocks Provincial Capital

Il Concerto Barocco in Teatro San Vittorino was an incredible night of classical music! We discovered the concert on FaceBook! The social media giant decided that I must like Baroque music and the concert event notice kept popping up. We had no idea where in Benevento we would find Teatro San Vittorino. Actually, Sygic our GPS had no idea either. We got close and did the Midge thing – I asked a couple of artsy looking girls if they knew where the theatre was. They shrugged and said follow us. We wisely did.

Thank you FaceBook

Teatro San Vittorino is an acoustically wonderful small performance space. It was once part of the Convent of San Vittorino. The Convent is now home to the Università Degli Studi  Del Sannio. The theatre is tucked in a back alley off a gorgeous pedestrian boulevard. Without our tour guides, we never would have found it. Once inside, I marveled at the architecture. Jack marveled at the padded living roomesq chair seating.

Il Concerto Barocco was a production of the Conservatorio Statale di Musica Nicola Sala in Benevento. We had previously heard a full orchestra concert composed of the conservatory’s faculty and students and knew this event would be a musical marvel. Every time I see world class musical students perform, I think of my days teaching arts administration on the Westminster Choir College Campus in Princeton. Those students lived and breathed their art. The young Italian men and sadly only one woman we heard play works by Vivaldi, Corelli, Telemann and Sammartini had that same passion and talent.

The Orchestra da Camera del Conservatorio di Benevento is under the direction of violinist Giorgio Sasso. The maestro was one of the two faculty members playing with the small ensemble. His violin was a window into his soul. The music flowed. Cembalo player – harpsichordist – Antonio Varriano’s fingers flew over the harpsichord’s double decker keys.

The Vivaldi rock star was accomplished flautist, Tommaso Rossi, playing the flauto dolce in Vivaldi’s Concerto in do minore RV 441 per Flauto Dolce, archi e continuo – Recorder Concert in C minor. I had to google “flauto dolce” to discover it was a recorder. Before he even began, the auditorium gave him a rousing round of applause. He was not only handsome as hell but a magical musician. Every elementary school student who plays the plastic recorder should see Rossi play the elegant wooden real thing. We got to hear him also in a piece by Sammartini. WOW!

Enough about the elders of the orchestra. Each one of the eight student musicians did a stellar job. The students rotated in and out of the orchestra based on the piece. Sasso, during applause, would pull featured students forward to have their moment. Thank you Orchestra da Camera del Conservatorio di Benevento for another rockin’ night in the provincial capital of Benevento.

We often get asked, “just what do you do in a small Southern Italian village?” I usually snarkily reply, “live.” Then Jack gives me that look and I talk about how there is culture everywhere we look, the cost of living is low and Europe is at our feet. We don’t have to travel far from Pontelandolfo to hear world class music, visit museums, or eat at Japit, the best sushi restaurant anywhere – 20 minutes to Benevento. After the concert we went out for dinner – Chinese. Yes, we can eat in restaurants that feature fare that is not pasta. Naples is an hour and 15 minute train ride away. This gorgeous port city is rich with museums, theater, opera, dance and incredible architecture. You get my drift? We live in a bucolic village with access to the culture we love. Yup, I’m glad we discovered Teatro San Vittorino in Benevento – yet another reason to live in Pontelandolfo.

Visit Pontelandolfo and you will see what I mean! It is not too late to join us for the September 2019 Cooking in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo culinary adventure. Message Me!

 
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7 Events for 7 Decades

What am I freakin’ birthday crazy? When I turned sixty, I tried to accomplish 60 things in one year – including finding old boyfriends. Sigh… I failed. As I recall, I only accomplished about 35 things on my original list. For 70 great years of living, I figured it would be a no brainer to create over the span of 7 days 7 super memorable activities. I announced my idea to my friends on both sides of the Atlantic. Everyone was excited and so was I. No one said I was pazzo – although there were a few raised eyebrows.

BOINGGGGGGG – BOINGGGGG – BAANNNGGG – Then it hit me. Seven events in one week? How was I going to produce seven events in a Southern Italian village – one for each decade of my existence? Seven events communicated with my totally non-intelligible Italian. Taking a breath, I remembered that I love living in the little village of Pontelandolfo and wanted to share the things I love with the people I love. Plus between body language and my limited vocabulary, I can be understood – most times. Easy Peasy! I’ve produced lots of theater and community wide events – albeit in a country where I speak the language well. This was going to be fun. I mean who wouldn’t love the things I love? Here is the list – 1. Catered British Afternoon Tea complete with hats. Lemon curd anyone? 2. Garden Cocktail Party featuring a harpist and a cool converted mini truck bar. One Campari spritz please. 3. A professional theatrical production by a great company. Wine liberally served. 4. Sfogliatelle and Mimosa Breakfast – really who wouldn’t rush to that. 5. Fancy dress up dinner for my 22 best friends at my favorite seafood restaurant. 6. Wizard of Oz film and sing-a-long in English for school kids assisted by costumed characters. 7. Dancing Friday Night Away at Bar George’s Revolution. After I made the list of what I wanted to do and wrote my arts administrationesq plan, the angst started.

70? Who Me?

Who would I invite? Would people hate me for inviting them to one event and not the other? If I forgot someone, how would I show my face in the Piazza again? Damn, the angst was zapping me. This May I was 70 and I wanted to party like there was no tomorrow. A weeklong party designed to leave me hugging my mattress the moment it was over. I needed to un-angst my angst. Luckily, I had a posse. My Pontelandolfo team of sisters Rossella and Annarita, neighbor Nicola and pal Melissa kept me sane by reminding me Questa è litalia. The land of the Bella Figura and a slower paced place than I’m used to. They also know just about everyone I needed to find to make this weeklong festa happen. My off-shore pals Janet and George kept reminding me that I knew how to do this stuff – plus they did too. My friend Marie told me to call when I felt crazy. The ever-smiling Elena became my major duomo. The angst never really vanished – how could it I’m a Jersey girl – but everything fell into place and the week was a smash.

Those of you who are imagining how much a week of debauchery must cost and that I must be a trust fund baby – BZZZT. WRONG. No trust fund here or sugar daddy – though I am open to the idea. The cost of living in Pontelandolfo makes doing a party like this possible. You too can stage one week of incredible artsy stuff here in Pontelandolfo and still have plane fare back to the USA. Not only was the cost for everything I did low, the professionalism of each of the folks I contracted was incredibly high. Low cost. High Quality. This is just one of the reasons I love where we live. Remember, a cappuccino here is less than $1.00 and tastes a hell of a lot better than one from Starbucks. The first thing that smacked me in my planning ahead head, was that all the vendors told me a. not to worry about the price and b. didn’t require a deposit and c. would trust me to pay them whenever… WHAT??? If I don’t know what the gorgeous tea sandwiches, pastries and scones cost how do I send someone to pick them up?? Midge, breathe, this is Pontelandolfo everyone trusts you to pay them later. Being Midge, I made sure I had cash to pay everyone and then was astounded at how little everything cost. (Don’t ask cause I ain’t telling – this is a cash society.)

Some of the things I wanted to do were a wee bit tricky to pull off without advance planning. I mean, where would I buy a fascinator to wear to the formal afternoon tea? Worse, where would I get 4 to 8 teapots??? Answer – Mercatino Usato. In Benevento, there is this great place that sells used stuff. My teapots cost less than the tea – average $4 each and they are gorgeous. The fascinator and hats flew over from New Jersey. My good pal, Orietta, brought a box of tea from London and the ever creative Jack found interesting teas on Amazon.it.

Prosecco, tea, and funky hats!

Getting a karaoke version of the Wizard of OZ seemed easy -Amazon.it of course. Panic attack – Gennaro, my ace Tech Director, noted that the CD was Blue Ray and no-one had one of those players. But being the ACE TD, he figured it out and somehow loaded it onto something and projected it for the kids of all ages who sang and danced to my favorite movie. Here my pals and I are stopping traffic.

Hmmm, how do I present a professional theatre company in a village with no theater? Job it all in! My East Coast USA peeps know how much it costs to bring in lights, sound, set the space and get it all to happen on time. Imagine a price that is so incredible that normal folks like you and me can afford to bring top shelf theater to our home towns. I am probably boring you with all this talk about how cheap it is to live here. You have heard it all before – wise up – come hang out here too! Let me think – what have I missed??

My incredible dinner party, complete with the Midge menu, had everyone opening their belts and groaning. Sesto Senso, a great seafood restaurant, is used to “putting on the Ritz” for folks who want things a little fancy schmanzy. The memory cake was made by a local baker – you can’t tell but it was a yellow brick road with me prancing all over it. Yikes, in retrospect this was incredibly egocentric. But then, I am 70! Finally, I just remembered that I also scheduled a night of dancing so the we could dance off all the pounds from everything else we did. Sadly, I also ordered the dripping cheese man –

Great cheese melted over coals onto toasted bread and enhanced with truffles!

Happy birthday to me! Happy Birthday to you! The folks who flew in for my birthday – Jan and Marie from Ecuador, George from Holland, Karen and Al from Canada and Janet from New Jersey – I applaud you for putting up with me for all these years and living through the 7 days of Midge. Pontelandolfese – I applaud you for putting up with me now! Thank you to everyone who helped me make this the best birthday party ever! Anyone want to stage an event in a magical place in Southern Italy? Call me and let us make the magic happen for you.

PS. This blog explains why I haven’t written anything for a month!

PPS. We still have 2 spots left for the September Cooking in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo! Message me ASAP. Visit Cooking in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo.

Easter Memories

I Miss the Crowded Table.

What is it about holidays that makes me leap back decades in time? Four year old Midge races around her grandma’s kitchen until big hands pick her up and plop her on top of a sears catalogue on a chair. Aunt Julie is at Nonna’s stuffing a pie crust with rice, chopped up dried sausage, pepperoni, other pork parts, cheese and a bowl of scrambled eggs. Aunt Cat sits rolling mountains of meatballs. Nonna, grandma, punching a bowl of dough down tells me to help with the meatballs. Uncle Sal grins from ear to ear as he wanders around the kitchen holding a recently cleaned chicken by the feet. Little girl me sitting and getting meatball yuck between my little fingers feels loved, safe and happy. My meatballs have a particularly odd shape – quite artistic. I knew that a bunch of people would be coming, the kitchen table would be made bigger and anything we could sit on would be dragged into the room. All the food piled in the middle of the table will disappear in a nano second and the talking, laughing and shouting will roar out into the street. Many Easters later, Jack and I would be living in that old Flagtown farm house. On Easter I wanted to reclaim those feelings. Truthfully, ever Sunday I wanted to be back in that kitchen. I still wanted to be surrounded by – well everyone. To make that happen, what does the woman with the organizer gene do every Easter until the once wee ones rolled their now adult eyes —

Family and Friends Like Family Annually Raced for Eggs.

The tykes who gathered eggs now have babies of their own. Time marches on and yet, somedays I actually feel myself back in the white farm house. Last week, the olive branches that were being hung all over Pontelandolfo reminded me that it would soon be Palm Sunday. That triggered a visceral need to reminisce and question myself. Why did Aunt Julie put rice in that egg and meat pie? She called it pizzagaina – gain a million pounds when you eat it. The pizzagaina I find in Pontelandolfo doesn’t have rice. It is kind of a quiche with a pie crust top. Pastiera di grano – a sweet ricotta, wheat berries and dried fruit pie delish dish – kind of looks like it has rice. Then it hit me! Zap! Aunt Julie used the rice to stretch the filling. My elders lived through the depression and when I was a child were still on the lower end of the financial spectrum. They taught us to use every piece of every animal, mineral or vegetable. Then again Aunt Julie was Sicilian. Maybe where she grew up the savory pie was made with wheat berries and in Somerset County NJ in the 1950s you weren’t going to find them. Sadly, I should have asked the question sooner.

It is spring in Pontelandolfo and the lambs, baby bunnies and baby goats are dashing about happily. Soon, lots of folks in the village will be happily eating them. As a kid in Flagtown, I don’t ever remember eating lamb or goat for Easter or any day. I think it was because it would have made Aunt Cat go ballistic. She often told the story of her parents raising goats. Actually, some Flagtownians called the Guerrera subsistence farm “Goat Patch.” Piccola Caterina loved those goats. They would follow her about, play tag and give her big kid hugs. Every year just before Easter Italians from the “big city” – you know places like Patterson, Jersey City or Newark – would come to Flagtown and buy their Easter meat. As soon as the cars pulled up the baby goats started to panic. Aunt Cat would get as far away as she could but said she still heard the cries that every spring broke her heart. She swore that those kids knew their time was up and cried all the way to the back of the barn. She hoped those city people choked on their dinner. So no goat meat for us.

Easter Sunday, mom would have always figured out a way to get us new hats and outfits. We went to the South Branch Reformed Church. WHOA you weren’t Catholic?? Shhhh, don’t tell anyone. My grandfather caught a Catholic Priest flirting with my nonna and wooooosssshhh the Catholic Church became off limits. Besides, the South Branch Reformed Church was right down the road in the little village of South Branch. The village sat on the banks of the South Branch of the Raritan River and way back then still had the homes of famous folks like opera singer Anna Case, New Jersey Governor Peter Dumont Vroom and Diamond Jim Brady. For me it was a metropolis – there was an apartment house from the 1800s, Amy’s store and Post Office and lots of cute farm boys who came to buy soda or go to church. I still remember Sunday school, Easter Dawn Services and sitting on the front steps of the church because my mother forgot to pick me up. Sadly, the state was going to dam the river to build a reservoir so they condemned houses, Amy’s store and more. They never built the reservoir – errrrrg. Just f&*^ed up the area. Hmm, perhaps I should stop thinking about yesterday and look out the window at the Sannio Hills and start telling you all about the Easter Traditions in Pontelandolfo. I will – next week. I need to spend a few more moments in the past.

Buona Pasqua from the Guerrera Girls.
Ci Vediamo

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An Experiment with 4 Suitcases

How can we possibly need all those suitcases??

What were we thinking dragging four – count them – four empty suitcases back to the USA? Well not exactly four empty suitcases. Jack has filled one to the brim. I leave clothes on both continents and am happy to schlepp nothing.  Why empty suitcases?  So that I can fill them with household goods we want to bring to our place in Pontelandolfo.

We have been flying Lufthansa which gets our full “going to Italy” suitcases to Naples where our best bud, Nicola picks us up. No suitcase angst. Jack, my frugal husband, discovered that premium seats on Norwegian Air from Newark, NJ was so much cheaper than Lufthansa.  Downside – you land in Rome with four full suitcases.  Upside –   the seats lie flat and you can sleep. Downside – you pay to stay in a hotel for a night or two.  Upside – it is Rome.  Downside – you have four freakin’ full suitcases!

When we landed in Rome with our four incredibly full and heavy suitcases – yes, you heard a WHINE –  the hotel’s driver picked us up and carried most of the bags. Then we used Mailbox Express to send half the bags to Pontelandolfo. We still had to drag two suitcases and computer bags on the train. Not fun. Oddio! I freakin’ hate it.

It was time to head back to New Jersey for a wedding – via Rome – with the same, albeit empty, four suitcases. I scoured for a car service – even a Bla Bla car – to get us and all our shit to Roma Fiumicino. The ever brilliant, Pasquale and Rossella, provided me with bus information. Flix Bus was cheap but took ten hours and left way too early in the morning.  Azienda Trasporti Molisana, ATM, had a bus that left from Boiano and only took the same three hours it would take in a car.  Hmm, I decided we would investigate.

I was telling my ex-pat pal in Ecuador, Marie, about my experimenting with bus transportation.  She promptly said, “ah, an experiment with four suitcases.”  Thanks Marie for the title!  Thanks for also reminding me that in Ecuador you have been using the buses forever.

An Experiment with 4 suitcases – 

ATM really had a comprehensive schedule.  But before I would investigate price, I sent a few e-mails to info@atm-molise.it.  (Dear proficient speakers of Italian – ignore my linguistic flaws. Non- Italian speakers will think I’m brilliant.)  Gulp, could I really drag 4 suitcases plus computer bags on the bus.  ATM responded immediately. (Damn, that impressed me.)

Me: Quante valigie possono portare ogni passeggero?  Grazie.

ATM: Quante ha bisogno di portarne? (I could see ATM rolling his/her eyes. How many do I need to carry – indeed!)

Me: Due (2) per me & due (2) per il mio marito.

ATM: Non c’è problema, buon viaggio. (Now ATM is laughing out loud and can’t wait to see us drag the suitcases down the street to the bus.)

Then I remembered a really important question.

Me: Dov’è ferma il pulmino nel Via Cavadini Boiano? The street is a long one.  How would we find the stop?

ATM: Davanti al vivaio La Ginestra, c’è il palo con l’indicazione ATM. Hmm near a nursery and there is a sign – sure there is a sign NOT.  This is Italy.

I moved on to the next step in the grand experiment and for €28.35 I booked two seats on the 9:55 AM ATM bus from Via Cavadini in Bojano (Boiano) to Fiumicino.  Jack and I often go to Boiano and decided we would do a trial run to find the alleged bus stop.  Shazaam – there was a clearly marked ATM sign right where they said it would be.  We were psyched.  This will be easy-peasy.

Trying to make the trip a wee bit easier I stuffed the duffle bag Jack usually packs into an oversized suitcase.  Great!  Now we are down to three suitcases, two computer bags and a purse.  What?  Jack promptly took his favorite blankee, I mean duffle bag out of the larger suitcase.  We are back up to four.  I whined again.  Jack then jammed, kicked and bullied a slightly smaller empty suitcase into the oversized one.  Four suitcases – pulling three and pocketing another. 

Rossella and Pasquale drove us to Boiano.  It had snowed.  The mountains looked fabulous.  The bus stop – full of snow.  How do you drag suitcases in the snow?  The bus arrived on time and stopped in the street.  Smart move.  We pulled the suitcases down the street and tossed them in the under-carriage storage bin.  The bus was modern and the seats comfortable.  The glass roof and wide windows provided breathtaking mountain views.  They also eliminated any large overhead storage.  My computer bag nested under my legs.

Happy Bus Riders!

After about an hour, I noticed the Lavazza Caffè maker ready to serve us and that there wasn’t a bathroom.  Suddenly, I had to pee.  Snow capped mountains zipped by.  I had to pee. I refused to think about peeing.  Olive groves, flocks of sheep and goats, plains prepped for spring plantings – those views and those thoughts filled my head. So did the many ways one could ask for a bathroom – C’è un bagno?  Dov’è il bagno? La toilette??  We arrived at Roma Stazione Tiburtina.  Our bags came out of the bottom of the bus and we were told to wait at the same place for the bus to Fiumicino.  I used my now longer list of Italian bathroom phrases and found the bathroom.  Paid the 50 cents to enter. Waited for a stall. Opened the door and found a marble hole in the floor with foot pads.  NOOOOOO!  I had on pantyhose.  That means taking off the pantyhose and putting my bare feet – noooooo!  I sucked it up and went back to get the bus to Fiumicino.  I could hold it another 40 minutes.  I am a strong woman.

The bus arrived and they loaded our luggage underneath, checked our tickets and off we went.  The wi-fi worked on this bus – it hadn’t on the first one.  It was a double decker bus and we chose the easy to get to bottom level.  We each took two seats and put our computer bags on one.  Most people went upstairs for the better views. Soon we arrived at Fiumicino’s international terminal.  They helped us with our bags and off we went to check in.  (Yes, I immediately found a bathroom.)

The bus company was easy to work with, ran on time, and was comfortable.  We have now discovered yet another way and another reason to get to Pontelandolfo!

Ci  vediamo!

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Snow Shut-ins

Can we talk? Sometimes life in my charming little Italian village makes me want to scream! Or if not scream, shake the powers that be until sense falls into place. It snowed. This is an anomaly here – especially in December. Last December it felt like fall. Those weather belts do keep changing. No one expects snow in December – maybe that is why I should have a kinder gentler feeling about… errrrrgggg.. that scream is bubbling up again.

We knew it would snow because I received numerous alerts from the town that said it might snow for three days – “make sure you have fuel for heat, food and something to keep you from going stir crazy.” Being from the North East of America where we scoff at snow, plows are out instantly and we drive in anything, I thought the alerts were a little over the top. NOT!

We had a house full of holiday guests and plans to go out and do holiday centered stuff – then it snowed. Day one – snow – about an inch – no one plowed or salted the local streets. OK, not a big deal. I know money is tight and we can drive over this. Downtown, no one had shoveled the sidewalks either. Hmmm, aren’t building owners responsible for that? Not a big deal – again only an inch. Local holiday events were cancelled and even worse news – restaurants were closed – hey, it was only an inch but still coming down.

A Gorgeous Inch of Snow Frosted the Mountains.

Day two – more snow – a lot more snow and we had to get my niece to the train station in Boiano. We heard the state highway was closed going west. Luckily, we had to go east. The local roads were not plowed or salted. Ice reigned supreme. We slowly left town and got to the highway. Now this is interesting. The highway in Campania was fairly clean and salted. The minute we crossed the regional line to Molise the highway had only been given one earlier pass with a plow, however the exit ramps were clean. Don’t the regions coordinate this stuff? We got to Boiano and back and cruised our village piazza. Nope, the sidewalks still had snow and ice and the piazza hadn’t been cleared. Shops were closed – I’m glad we had the necessities of life in the house – eggs, bread and wine.

Day three – lots more snow. I mean tons of snow. How would we get the last of our guests to their train in Benevento? Yesterday, the road was closed. First step, dig out the car. Done. Second step, dig out the top of the driveway near the unplowed road. Done. Third step – do we have to freakin’ dig out the street???? The train was due late in the afternoon, we figured we had some options. Sleds pulled by snow sheep sounded like the best idea. It stopped snowing – that was a good sign. Before the top of my head blew off, a back hoe started ambling up our road tossing snow off the middle of the street. Note, I said back hoe not a plow. He made a narrow path up the center of the road. We – OK not WE – Jack dug us to the center. We got in the car and wondered what we would find. Again, the state highway was pristine. The views were fabulous and since Benevento is at a much lower altitude it was an easy snowless drive.

Clean Highway and Luscious View

Later that afternoon when we got back to Pontelandolfo, we noted that the piazza still hadn’t been cleared and the sidewalks were awful. I asked about that and found out that building owners don’t have to clean in front of their buildings. So, obviously they don’t. Store owners only shoveled the boots width necessary to get into their shops. Don’t ya think it is time for a new piece of local legislation? The cobblestone piazza isn’t plowed, I investigated and discovered, one can’t plow on cobblestone – how about a snow blower or a shovel??? I don’t know the science but couldn’t they at least spread salt??? I do understand not plowing local mountain roads until it absolutely stops snowing – fiscal constraints and all that. BLEH, I really don’t but questa è la nostra vita.

There are somethings towns in Southern Italy do well. There are other things – not so well. The snow – well now I know – when you get the alert make sure you have heating fuel, food and lots of booze in the house. Jack just read this and pointed out – we did get wherever we needed to go. Get over it. Take a breath, look at the snow capped mountains and sigh at the beauty. Questa è Italia!

Ci vediamo!

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Buon Anno da Sesto Senso!

Buon Anno!  Happy New Year!   2018 seems to have galloped along the road of life bringing lots of good news, great friends and new vistas to explore.   Now, 2019 is guaranteed to be incredible – granting all of us health, happiness and good cheer.

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Jack and Midge glad to be part of the New Year’s party.

We greeted 2019 with family, friends, a bazillion courses of seafood, music, dancing and fireworks at Sesto Senso!  This great local restaurant tucked in a corner of Campolattaro (BN) tossed a rocking party.  Unlike the New Year’s Eve parties we have gone to in the states, the crowd featured party goers of literally all ages.  Babes in strollers to great grandparents danced to traditional music and rock and roll.  No one seemed to mind the wee ones giggling in their flouncy finery, twirling throughout the tables.

This is the first time we have ventured out on New Year’s Eve.  Last year we dined with family and friends too, but in our house and then raced to the Pontelandolfo Piazza to see the requisite midnight fireworks.  Not knowing what to expect, I encouraged our house guests Cindy and Les, my LA niece Alessandra and Pontelandolfo niece Annarita to come along for the ride.

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Alex and Annarita kept the wine and the laughter flowing.

 

The first hint that this was going to be a party that required our due diligence and staying power was the menu –

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The second hint included countless wine bottles that arrived full and seemed to empty and get replaced in nano-seconds.  Thank God we got to dance between courses.

The apertivo plates – lots of different fish but of course but I can’t remember what – were brought in to a musical fanfare!  Damn, this is just the apertivo tasting?  How will we get through all the courses?  We put on our big girl appetites and somehow we did.

Everything was presented so beautifully that for a scant moment we just stared, not wanting a fork to damage the look.

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Croccheta di Baccala – Almost too cute to eat.

At midnight we hadn’t quite made it through the menu, but that didn’t stop the bottles of prosecco from popping and the fireworks to start blaring.  We all raced out side to see the display.  Oooing and aaaahhhhhing I realized that the restaurant had organized the pyrotechnics. What a button to put on a great evening. But wait, we have more to eat – the night isn’t over!

Cotechino a pork based sausage and lentils are a traditional Italian New Year’s Eve course.  The lentils represent money that will be coming your way in the upcoming year.  We scarfed down those lentils – I actually made more the next day.  I wonder how many pounds of lentils I need to eat to get the cash for first class plane tickets??

2019 is firmly ensconced in our lives.  For each of us, that means it is time for a new adventure.  In 2019  I’ll be entering my seventh decade – gulp – my second act needs to be upgraded to include a chorus of triple threat actors to help me pull off my ongoing later scenes.  Hit me with my light – I’m ready for it!

Buona Fortuna!

Ci vediamo

Don’t forget you can eat like a Southern Italian too. Become part of our

Cooking in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo program.  Check it out!  Click Here.

LA? No, Pontelandolfo!

Get your fancy clothes out of storage! Force your feet into those sexy pumps.  It is almost time to prance down the red carpet at  Pontelandolfo’s International Film Festival – Comicron! 

This December 15th and 16th our little southern Italian village will be screening short comic films from all over the world. The glitterati will be there.  The press will be there.  Hell, Jack and I will be there.  Will your short comic film be there?

Producers of Short Comic Films – Enter ComicronToday!

Pontelandolfo, in cooperation with Centro Studi Ugo Gregoretti and Pontelandolfo’s Pro Loco presents the fifth edition of the Comic Short International Film Festival, Comicron. The project creator and artistic director is award winning film director and Honorary Pontelandolfo Citizen, Ugo Gregoretti.

Reaching out to handy dandy Wikipedia, I discovered a little of Gregoretti’s background –

Ugo Gregoretti is an Italian film, television and stage director, actor, screenwriter, author and television host. He has directed 20 films since 1956.  For RAI, Gregoretti worked as a documentarist and a director. In 1960 he won the Premio Italia Award for the television documentary La Sicilia del Gattopardo. In 1962 he made his film debut with the comedy-drama I nuovi angeli. Having directed both theatre and opera, he was president of the Turin Permanent Theatre from 1980 to 1989 and in 1995 he was nominated president of the Accademia Nazionale di Arte Drammatica Silvio D’Amico. In 2010 he was awarded with a special Lifetime Nastro d’Argentofor his career.

The location of the Festival in Pontelandolfo is not only indicative of the Gregoretti’s desire to create an alternative venue for this quirky art form, but also his commitment to the village where he summered as a child.  His family actually owned Pontelandolfo’s iconic tower.  Not only is he the driving force behind the Short Comic Film Festival, Gregoretti has also donated his personal archives to the town.  Centro Studi Ugo Gregoretti is an invaluable resource for film students.

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2014 Festival – Ugo Gregoretti cuts the Red Carpet Ribbon.

 Comicron, devoted exclusively to one genre – comedy – is a unique experience in the International Festival scene.  Audiences come and leave the viewing areas smiling.  Seriously, this is not only a great experience for we giggling audience members but also for Indie Film makers with a comic flair.

So, now that you have the basics please spread the word to your artsy and funny film making pals.  Unlike other festivals this one is FREE to enter – it costs nada, nothing, niente.  The top prize is €500!  Think about it for only a nano-second and then forward the guidelines to your pals. (The website only translated the guidelines – hisss – but you can check out the pictures and let google translate play.  Also, they call the application area subscribe.  Strange, I know.  If you need help ask me.)

Registration Fee: Free

Deadline for applications: November 10, 2018

Festival dates: December 15 and 16, 2018

€500 Award – ComicronAward 2018 – Best Short Film

ENTER TODAY AND VISIT PONTELANDOLFO THIS DECEMBER!

Ci vediamo sul tappeto rosso!

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Nonna’s Mulberry Tree LLC is now accepting registrations for our May 2018 Cooking in the Kitchens of Pontelandolfo program.  

CLICK HERE FOR MORE INFO!