Quarantine Quirks (Yes, we have Covid.)

Sigh… Midge and Jack succumbed to the evil Covid. Beh. Cough, cough, sneeze, sneeze. Now, no need to feel sorry for us. I truly enjoyed laying on the couch for seven days and binge watching Tehran on Apple TV. Sleeping until noon wasn’t so bad either. We are both finally rejoining the living, but won’t be leaving the house until we take a second Tampone Nasofaringeo Covid test.

How did we get it you ask? Well, we went on vacation. I know, I know, being retired and living in Italy is like one long vacation. Think of this as a vacation from vacationing. Or as my pal Marjorie put it, “You staycation all year and this is your going away vacation.” We had booked a Viking River Cruise that would glide us along the Rhine River from Amsterdam to Basel Switzerland. Amsterdam – damp, cold rainy Amsterdam. I know the exact second and place in Amsterdam that I gobbled up a bunch of Covid flying germs. The – they really need new administrators – Ann Frank House was the place. We had reserved time slots to visit the Ann Frank House. It was raining. There was a freakin’ long queue outside the Museum/House. We were soaking wet. My mask was soaking wet. My brain was soaking wet and wanted to ring dry whoever the programming administrator at the museum was that over booked time slots. Excuse me, the place is small and you sold enough timed tickets to fill the coliseum. We squeezed into the place – masked – and really enjoyed the museum portion of the exhibition. As we climbed the steep cramped stairs to the upper levels, I started to panic. They can’t be putting all these people into smaller and smaller spaces. Oh yes, they could. I pulled my mask down only once – to breathe after climbing a flight of stairs. Only for two minutes. That was all it took for the evil flying vermin to pounce on my lungs. Have I mentioned that masks were not required. I saw about 4 out of the crush of people wearing masks. (I do not know if what you just read is true. I cannot confirm or deny this is the place I caught Covid. The above paragraph was based on my Italian woo woo insights.)

We spent two more rainy masked days in Amsterdam before hitting the river. The Viking “longboat” only had about 160 passengers. We never sat with other people. Didn’t go to the main crowded dining room and were definitely cautious. Views along the river were great. Food and booze were great. Laughing with Sue and Phil, the couple we went with was great.

ALERT, ALERT, RING, DING, SIREN OOOOO. According to the European Centre for Disease Prevention and Control, “Based on systematic reviews and meta-analyses in studies investigating infections with ancestral strains of SARS-CoV-2, the incubation period of COVID-19 is, on average, five to six days, with most studies reporting a range of two to 14 days.” I woke up on day 4 of the cruise and went right back to bed. (Notice how average I am – six bleeding days it took for the nasties to turn me into yuck.). I didn’t even think about Covid. Having had two severe cases of Lyme disease, I thought I was having a Lyme reoccurrence. My muscles didn’t want to work and I was incredibly weak. Blah, blah, blah, you don’t need to hear the whole gruesome story. Anyway, I only thought about Covid when I started coughing. That was in the airport flying back to Naples. I double masked and hoped for the best.

Back in Pontelandolfo, we immediately went to the pharmacy and got tested. We both tested positive for covid. What? How could Jack be positive? He doesn’t even have a sneeze happening. Pharmacist, Marco Perone, entered us into the system and printed out our, YOU BETTER QUARANTINE FOR A MINIMUM OF 5 DAYS OR GET A TIME OUT, certificates. Hiding our faces from the world we rushed home. Yes, once in the system the local police can really check on you. Besides that, we didn’t want anyone we knew – which is the whole village – getting sick.

it was official. October 8 we went into quarantine.

We had been away from home for about 12 days. The refrigerator was empty. We looked at each other. Jack sighed. I had a coughing fit, recovered and went into “feed us please” action. The snarky readers out there will read what follows, guffaw and think, you can easily order food in New Jersey too. Supermarkets deliver. Restaurants deliver. Getting delivery is no big deal. Hey snarky – Do they also think for you????

My first text was to Luigi, co- owner of Mini Market La Torre. Think well stocked deli. My list was eggs, milk, bread, water, lunchmeat and wine and whine – I couldn’t think. Lunchmeat – they know us. They know I buy 200 grams each of mortadella, tacchino, e prosciutto motto. I didn’t have to think. Luigi tossed other stuff we would need in the bag. I snuck out side and put a Tupperware container with a bunch of money in it on our outdoor table. He left his store, ran over and put the bag of goodies on the table. Then he routed around the Tupperware and took what it cost.

Vegetables. We need vegetables. Fresh, green and full of antioxidants too. Text number two went to Nicole, owner of Fresh Fruit. Nicole gets up most mornings at 4:00 AM and heads to the fruit and vegetable farmer’s market near Naples. My text to her was briefer – green vegetables, fruit, onions and ???. She too appeared with a bag stuffed with green, yellow and I don’t remember fresh stuff. Nicole exchanged a receipt for cash in the Tupperware box.

Watching her, I started giggling. For years, I would go to farms, put money in a box and take eggs or produce. This is kind of a reverse honor system. Leave money in the box for someone to take and they leave you stuff.

How could we go a week without meat from Marcelleria Mancini? To butcher extraordinary, Stefano, my text was steak, chopped meat, chicken and some kind of interesting cheese. We ugly Americans eat more meat than we should. His other customers get one chicken breast thin sliced into cutlets for ten people. He knew better and two giant chicken legs and breasts arrived. With all the garlic and onions from Nicole, chicken soup was happening. He cut us two thick and scrumptious steaks. Enough for two meals. The cheese was a creamy and yummy caciocavallo – you know horse’s balls – from a local caseificio – cheese maker. Stefano didn’t rummage in the Tupperware box. He had stapled a bill to the bag and said pay me when you are better.

Pay me when you are better??? Would ShopRite at Home say “pay me when you are better?”

Speaking of texts. I texted our primary care physician, Doctor Palumbo. He replied instantly with what meds we needed to buy and what we should be doing. The first person to pick up meds for us was Nicola, our good friend and neighbor. A few days later I texted Dr. Palumbo again – I was worried about Jack’s oxygen saturation. More meds and a new text to my precious cousin Carmella. Vroom she was off and running to the Pharmacy. Yeah, yeah, CVS delivers but does the pharmacist call you and say, ” How are you two? Call if you need us.”

Since I didn’t want folks here to think we were ignoring them, I posted on FaceBook that we were Covid positive and in quarantine. Folks had not only wished us well via replies on my FaceBook post but hit other electric highways as well. I was too tired to answer my phone but I did look at the messages. Many of them came from my Pontelandolfo neighbors. “Call if you need anything.” “Can I do anything.” Those thoughts were said a variety of ways with funny or serious emojis. Those messages kept our spirits up. Thanks Carmella via Michelle for getting us that much yearned for loaf of bread! Thank you to Jersey Girl Kathy for daily checking on us too.

For the past ten years I have touted the joys and love we find in our small Southern Italian village. Pontelandolfo may not have Grubhub, Doordash or Uber Eats but damn, it has love. Lots of love. Grazie mille a tutti.

Ci vediamo!

Midge
PS. So excited! I will soon be in NJ and PA doing readings from my book, Cars, Castles, Cows and Chaos! Come laugh with me!

A Taste of Wild Boar!

Amazing Night!

As soon as we got out of our pal Jeff’s car, the succulent scent of slowly cooked cinghiali, wild boar, wafted over us. At 8:20 PM, Jeff, Marianne, Jack and I headed down the hill toward Pontelandolfo’s covered market. Since nothing here has ever started on time – ever – we were surprised to hear music playing and see everything organized and ready to go early! Sponsored by La Squadra Cinghiale Lido, wild boar hunting club, this was the best organized food centered event that I have ever attended in our little village. No, I mean, the best organized event ever! The club members thought of everything – starting with arrows and signs letting you know just where the event was. For years, I have whined about the lack of audience or tourist considerations. This group rocks and understood how to help everyone enjoy the night.

We got down to the covered market and joined the line to enter. The line flowed like a fast moving stream. We paid our €10 each, got a ticket and were whisked along. (Signage let us know exactly what to expect.)

A tray was placed in front of us, first stop – wine! That glass of full bodied red would be perfect with cinghiale. (You could also buy a bottle.) The tray slid down the counter and a club member filled a bowl with cavateli smothered in sauce teaming with chunks of boar. He pushed the tray on to the next station. A local hard roll – wrapped in plastic so no sticky fingers touched it – landed on the tray. Next stop, a scoop of cinghiale slowly braised with onions and garlic filled a tray cutout. That must be enough for ten bucks right? Nope. The final cutout on the tray was for an enormous scoop of cinghiale that tasted like it had marinated in wine and was slowly cooked with tomatoes and herbs. OMG it was ottimo, the best.

Well organized assembly line.

My neighbors – Nunzia and Amadeo – waved us over and created spots for us. The place was already full and tables had reserved signs. I had a chance to look around and appreciate the transformation the market space had undergone. Cafeterias style tables were set up and covered in yellow table clothes. Lots of them had reserved signs. I was happy that Nunzia called us over. The club had fashioned the cassa – place you pay – assembly line and enclosed kitchen at one end of the enormous space. The other side of the open space was the realm of Gabrielle Palladino, Pontelandolfo’s true renaissance man. He is an accomplished author of numerous books, a singer and theatre professional. He is also works in city hall. As they chowed down, the music he played and sang entertained the crowd.

The food was “to die for” and the convivial surroundings made the evening a spectacular success. After we finished eating, we didn’t want to leave. But the long line of hungry people waiting to come in, made me realize we should let them turn the table. The efficient volunteers had been coming around and bussing tables around us. What shall we do? Grab a bottle of wine and dance the night away!

Young, old all enjoying a wonderful night together.

The hunting club is housed in the old village nursery school. They get it for very little rent or free but maintain it and pay all the bills. La Squadra Cinghiale Lido is an asset to the village. Wild boars are really destructive and seem to multiply like rabbits. They have even taken over streets in Rome. My fantasy is that the organization also form a cooperative and get licensed to hunt beyond the season and sell the meat. I would be the first in line. Grazie La Squadra Cinghiale Lido for a perfect Pontelandolfo evening.

Ci vediamo!

Midge Midgeguerrera.com


Every year on September 12th, I remember where I was the day before. To deal with my own sadness, fears and sense of loss, I started writing a play. The play I wrote, Email: 9/12 was based on the emails I received from friends and family around the world. It tells the story of 9/11 from very personal perspectives. It hit me today that the youngest members of my extended family weren’t even born when the Twin Towers went down. I’ve shared my play with them. The play would be a wonderful component for any social studies or history class and a catalyst for discussion. It is published by Next Stage Press.

Fernando Fiat and the Sand of Morocco!

Fernando Fiat loves an adventure as much as any other Fiat. (Those of you who have read Cars, Castles, Cows and Chaos have tracked his journeys.) The other morning I got up, looked at Fernando, shuddered and screamed “Where have you been?” The car was covered in sand! Did it take me on the quick trip to a beach on the Adriatic? Had it accompanied me to the neighboring village’s Beach Volleyball tournament? No! The 500 XL shuddered a bit and looked at me with “do you still love me“ headlight eyes.

Then it hit me – like a dune in the eye. Morocco! The high flying Sahara sands had covered my poor Fernando and he/she never got to enjoy Morocco. Seriously, there were no gifts on the back seat from open air bazaars, fabulous food containers were not perched on the back seat and make my tummy dance music was not playing on the radio. There was just sand. Years ago Mario, my cousin Carmella’s husband had explained the Moroccan connection. Being a testa dura, I had put the story away as folklore. Bo, it isn’t lore! Look at Fernando!

Itchy sand covers Fernando.

Everyone here knows about the sand. Everyone but me believes it comes from Morocco. I did what any baby boomer would do, I googled it. There are websites dedicated to the flow of the Sahara sand from Africa to Europe, the Caribbean and even the United States! Even NASA follows sand storms! NASA, seems to like the sand, and alerts us to this hurricane factoid – hurricanes hate flying sand! More sand means fewer hurricanes.

Dust plays a major role in Earth’s climate and biological systems. Since it is rich with iron and other minerals that plants and phytoplankton need, it provides natural fertilizer for ecosystems when it lands downwind. The airborne particles also absorb and reflect sunlight—altering the amount of solar energy reaching the planet’s surface. Dust can also promote or reduce cloud and storm formation, depending on other atmospheric conditions.

According to that same NASA article. Dust sounds like a good thing.

Living in Southern Italy I learn something new every day! Usually, it is about preserving a healthy harvest. I never thought that the unwashed Fernando Fiat could help me understand that sand, a simple grain, can have such a global impact.

Ci sentiamo,

Midge (www.midgeguerrera.com)

Have a happy rest of the summer!

Put some drama in your life!

Read a Play!

I am blessed to have – E-mail: 9/12, Wanda the Girl who Cried Witch, Many Snows Ago and soon Mamma Mia – La Befana?! – all published by Next Stage Press.

The Empty Piazza

The other night and again this morning as Jack and I sat at Bar Elimar, I realized something was different. The vibe was different. The sun was still shining and the piazza dogs were still smiling at Jack. (Jack tends to drop things off his plates on purpose, hence the smiling dogs.) The silence hit me. The piazza was empty. I mean, not literally empty, but fewer people were lingering over coffee. We easily got a table in the shade. It is still August but summer season is over. The Pontelandolfese who returned to their roots have flown off. For some reason, I found this quiet period depressing. I, who hate crowds and backpacks, actually felt sad that there were less people out and about. Perhaps, I too am entering a new era or turning back the clock to a time when I couldn’t function unless there was a crowd to sap the energy from. Brrrrrrr. This is sounding too contemplative.

Snap out of it! This is the perfect time to be here in Pontelandolfo. The air is crisp. The sweat has stopped pooling under my boobs and the mosquitoes have stopped using my bare legs as a buffet. It is a pleasure to sit here, stare and sip my cappuccino.

Midgeeee! Tutto posto? Cheerily said a couple of men as they passed by our table on their way into the bar. Maria, the ever efficient barista/waiter knew exactly what we wanted without our asking. The silent piazza was still home for us. Full or empty we belong here.

Ci sentiamo dopo.

Midge


Not too late for a summer read of my Pontelandolfo based book, Cars,Castles, Cows and Chaos!

Teachers need a lesson teaching Halloween play or a play about America’s first people? Check out my plays on Next Stage Press.

Hitting the Road!

“Hit the road Midge and don’t ya come back no more, no more.” I have been persecuting Jack and my PR pal George by bellowing out those lyrics whenever I talk about setting up an East Coast USA reading tour for my book about life in Italy, Cars, Castles, Cows and Chaos. George lives in the Netherlands and has been pimping me off to bookstores, Italian Clubs, women’s clubs and just about anyone he can think of. Jack, just raised an eyebrow at “pimping.” Hey, that is a PR vocabulary word – isn’t it? I will be in New Jersey for six months beginning in November and George has me hitting the road. I love the theatre of it all. At first, I wanted to do a November reading tour – a gig a day for 30 days. Jack explained that I might need to spend the whole day after a reading, sipping wine and being social sleeping.

What! I cried. I’ve done two shows a day for six days. Reading for an hour and schmoozing is a piece of cake.

How old were you when you did two shows a day?

Well – oh – ugggg.

One show, I mean reading, a day with a minimum of one day off in-between is now the plan. Except for the first week. Jack hadn’t made up the well thought out though yucky rule yet and we have bookings.

Janet Cantore Watson, the books illustrator, has already started taking her artistic show on the road. During the spring she did a signing at Commonplace Reader Bookstore in Yardly, PA. Before that, together we did a reading at Cafe Brio in Hillsborough and Rossi’s Restuarant and Bar in Hamilton. (We love all types of venues.) This past week Janet did one show a day for three days at the Somerset County 4-H Fair. (I did tell Jack that if Janet could do it so could I. He pointed out the age difference. The creep.) She came up with a great concept. She reads a story from Cars, Castles, Cows and Chaos and then has the audience create illustrations for that tale. Clever, creative and encourages listening. Check out the video –

Janet is an amazing woman and puts fun into everything she does. We have gotten lots of positive feedback from her workshops. Sadly, I can’t draw a stick figure so I need to stick to entertaining. Here are the gigs I have so far. If you want more information email me at info@nonnasmulberrytree.com

November 9 –  Newtown Bookshop in Newtown, PA. 6:30PM

November 10 – Frenchtown Bookstore in Frenchtown, NJ. 7:00 PM

November 11 – Unico District X Kenilworth in Kenilworth, NJ 2:00 PM (Reservations please)

November 16 – Women’s Group of the Pontelandolfo Club. Waterbury, CT 6:30 PM

November 29 – Verve Restaurant 2nd Floor. Somerville, NJ. 6:30 PM

December 4 – Booked on Germantown Ave, Philadelphia, PA. 4:00 PM

December 13 – Horizons at Woodland Second Tuesday Book Club Lakewood, NJ

Let Me Entertain You! If I am not doing something creative and fun, I will be bored silly. During my six months in New Jersey, if you find me places to read, you will be keeping me sane. I will be forever grateful and Jack will thank you because I will not be driving him pazzo. I’m free, funny and won’t embarrass you – well maybe a little. Seriously, I would love to come and share stories from Cars, Castles, Cows and Chaos (this is the international link) with your club, organization, condo complex etc. Just contact me and I’ll put it in the calendar.

Time to head down to Bar Elimar and have a Compari Spritz and people watch. Thanks for always being there for me.

Ci vediamo.

Midge – midgeguerrera.com

I’ll Sleep in September

Noooo! I can’t.

Yes you can, you will love it.

I have a headache.

You never have a headache.

Jack, who takes a nap every afternoon, dragged my tired, pajama clad butt off the couch at 9:00 PM and told me to get dressed. It was time to head to the piazza. How many nights in a row could I drink, eat, drink, watch performances and go to bed at 2:00 AM???? Hell, I’m 73 years young and pride myself on my “youngness” but even I in the prime of my third act can’t go out every night for an entire month. (Jack said I am exaggerating it is only seven to ten days. Feels like a month to me.)

There is more to come!

During August, Pontelandolfo becomes an arts and entertainment hotspot. We do compete with other towns for the crowds but our Folk Dance Festival can’t be topped. Gruppo Folk Ri Ualanegli, our internationally acclaimed folkloric dance company, produces a festival that brings in dance companies from around the world. This group takes our dance heritage seriously. One of the big draws on the opening night is our junior company. Children as young as three and four stamp, twirl and dance the dances of their ancestors. Click Here and check out the photos and video on their FaceBook page. This year dancers from Mexico, Serbia, Poland and other parts of Italy danced on the outdoor stage in Piazza Roma. Incredible. Absolutely magical.

Mexico Parades into the Piazza

The August nights also resonate with music and movies. Comicron 2022 – 7th Edition, a three night festival of short comic films, is an annual event. Created by celebrated film director Ugo Gregoretti, it provides young film makers with an incentive see comic shorts as an art form. Check out the Pontelandolfo entry, Il Re dell’Oblio written and directed by Gianluca De Michele and featuring my cousin – Valerio Mancini!

Notice how may other neighboring towns challenge us to stay up late.

You thought the festival was only a week? Actually, the official Pontelandolfo festival is about a week long. Notice, the other villages enticing us to leave our couches and venture forth. During the month in Pontelandolfo other events pop up . Who could resist this musical night –

I will absolutely go to this.

I challenge you to join me next year and see every event! Here is the drill, we get to the piazza – If I am still walking – at about 8:30 PM and hunker down in our reserved table at Bar Elimar. Bar Elimar is directly across from the stage so we get great seats, food, drinks and conversation. Often, I leap out of my chair, being careful not to spill my Campari Spritz, and race into the crowd to get closer to the stage. At about 1:00 AM we walk up the hill to our car and head home. Now we are too jazzed to go to sleep. Repeat. We repeat this lifestyle for a bunch of days. Next? Sleep for a week.

Today, I am drinking water at my usual table and staring at the piazza. Tonight will be another late night. Maybe, I’ll head home, take a lesson from Jack and zzzzzzzzzzz. And you – rest up and get your body here next August!

Ci Vediamo!

Midge – www.midgeguerrera.com

PS –

So excited – Next Stage Press just released my Eastern Woodland Native American Play – “Many Snows Ago” in September! Elementary School teachers will love it. “Mamma Mia – La Befana?!” comes out in the fall. Don’t forget to pick up a copy of my book about life here, “Cars, Castles, Cows and Chaos.”

Just Another Day in Pontelandolfo

” Why, I just put one foot in front of the other and keep on smiling.”

“No, but really what do you do? I mean it’s not like a vacation, or is it like a super long vacation? What do you do every day?”

Hmm, what do I do on a typical day in Pontelandolfo. Let’s take today. Just what did I do today. First I carried the laundry bag down the stairs, separated the lights and darks and then I did a load of wash. I used to wash our clothes by hand – no really – the first year we lived here every single day I would wash what was dirty from the day before an hang it outside to dry. I felt like I was part of village life. After that early morning chore, I would walk to Piazza Roma and see laundry flopping in the breeze all over town. Of course, that worked amazingly well when we were here in the summer. One Christmas, my sheets froze on the line. My fingers froze getting the frozen sheets. The dining room was draped in damp sheets. The dryer was delivered the next day. But today, the sun is shining and it is going to be hot, so just like all over Italy, the clothes are happily hung on the line. Here is breezy example.

Next stop, Piazza Roma for a cappuccino and a visit to Dr. Palumbo. Nothing tragic, I just needed a prescription refilled. A prescription that will cost me next to nothing in a copay. Seeing our primary care doc meant climbing the three flights to his office. I consider it exercise. Huffing and puffing as I entered the waiting room, I wheezed out, Buon giorno, Chi è l’ultimo? The person who is last in the cue raised a broken wrist. I sat down, caught my breath and then as I waited my turn, caught up with local gossip . After arriving sans an appointment – no one makes an appointment – I waited less than I wait to see my primary NJ doc. Hello Margarettttt, smiles Dr. Polumbo. Yup, without a nurse putting a file in a pocket with my name on it he knows who I am. He prints out the script, I say grazie and I’m off.

Down the steps and across the piazza to Farmacia Perone to fill my meds. That is always a pleasure. The entire family of pharmacists always seem to be smiling, offer a little chit chat, at laugh at my reaction to the low low prices. I grab my drugs, say ciao, buona giornata, and I’m off.

A quick dash into the Ferramenta where hardware store owner Nicola smiless broadly as he says Buon Giorno Midge. Of course I immediately forget how to say low energy fluorescent lightbulb. We both laugh and he points to the ligtbulb display. I get one and raced back to Bar Elimar for Jack who is now on his forth espresso.

Home for a quick change into a bathing suit and pool wear. We were off to spend the day at Queensley Country Resort. This place is a scant 10 minutes from our house and always makes me feel like my book Cars, Castles, Cows and Chaos was picked up by HBO and I’m in LA. (Did you see how I just slid that plug in?). It is a truly glamorous place. Today, I swam laps in my not glamorous black tank suit. Everyone else was in a bikini. Everyone else was LA thin. After lunch, yes they serve lunch with real flatware. You can order a glass of wine and sit at a cloth covered table. Jack had his usual Caprese Salad and I had an l’insalatatone – big green salad with tuna. Don’t shrug your shoulders and sigh – you wanted to know what a typical day was like. This was my day.

Though there was some excitement today. We met a fairly large groups of folks from England. One couple of the group own a house in Compolattaro – the village next door to Pontelandolfo. Gerry and Jane plan on doing what Jack and I do – six months here and six months there. Listen up folks, there are houses for sale and this isn’t a bad place to perform your third act.

Speaking of acts, while I was at the pool a Facebook Messenger text popped up on my phone. It was Gene Kato from Next Stage Press. NO, THIS REALLY ISN’T A COMMERCIAL – THIS REALLY HAPPENED TODAY! Gene had done the dummy for the front and back covers for the play of mine he is publishing next. (He has already published two, “Many Snows Ago” is number three and this fall he is also publishing “Mamma Mia La Befana?!) So from the pool, like some hotshot millennial, I called Gene and we talked about the cover. OMG – what a day! Third acts like this are simply fabulous dahlink.

Tonight we are going to Sesto Senso for dinner. Who can cook after a day like this? I will be too tired to write about dinner – which starts close to 9:00 PM. Just know it will be yummy. Oh, and thank you for asking about my day.

Ci Vedaimo!

Midge 

(www.midgeguerrera.com)

Not Another Fava Bean Favorite!

Tis the season to enjoy the fava beans that miraculously appear at my door. Didn’t I just write about fava beans – anybody remember? Here in Pontelandolfo spring has more than sprung fresh produce. Gardens are lush and fava beans are growing everywhere. In two days they will disappear. That means peel them, cook them and eat them while you can. Yawn, sigh – again. I hate to yawn over free food that is full of vitamins, minerals and protein. More importantly, I’m told by local fava lovers, regularly eating fava beans may boost your immune system.

As I sat down to free the beans from a hundred pods, my cousin Carmela texted and announced that at 3:00 PM she was coming for an Aperol Spritz. She wouldn’t come alone. Yikes, aperitivo time is snack time. What do I have that could pass as a snack? Fava beans? I googled fava and found that people make spreads out of them. After reading a few recipes, I tossed my iPad aside and started experimenting. Here is my latest creation.

  1. Peel a bunch of beans.
  2. Toss them in water and boil them until the outer skin looks wrinkled. (About 5 minutes.)
  3. Burn my fingers peeling off the wrinkled outer skin. You would probably wait until they cooled.
  4. Look around for stuff to toss in the blender with them.
Notice the RED fingers.

I had a beautiful “sweet onion”, garlic and tons of spices. First thing tossed in the food processor – what you thought I’d use a mortar and pestle – was half an onion. VVVVVVVRRRRRooom, my eyes were tearing but the onion was squished. How much garlic? Jack and I believe a head of garlic is the perfect amount for any dish. Since I was only making about a cup or two of dip, I tossed in two cloves. VVVVRRRRRooom. Done. Next the fava. VVVVVRRRRRooom – what the heck? It looked like some yucky chopped up yuck. Olive oil! Of course! I added some fresh local olive oil and looked around for herbs. Salt, pepper and – I had saffron! Saffron.

It smells OK but needed something. Something? Hot pepper? No, I hate super hot stuff. Then I saw the bowl of fresh lemons on the counter. Boing – of course – that would punch it up. I squeezed in half a large lemon and gave the food processor another spin.

Did I ever admit that I am a cook who never remembers to taste what I am cooking? Well, I won’t admit it now. I put the mush in a pretty bowl, surrounded it with taralli and crostini. Divine. Hmm, I wonder what it tastes like?

Cousins Carmella, Annarita and pal Maryann showed up for Aperol Spritz and lady language. “Midge, tu hai fatto vellutata!” Vellutata? Would it be crass to look the word up before I made the drinks? My green mush was apparently something quite chic! Vellutata!

After everyone had a sip of their Spritz – or was it a glass – we dipped into the vellutate di fava. OMG – it hinted of guacamole! Maryann, who is also American, said we needed Doritos or tortilla chips. There are no tortilla chips to be found but San Carlo makes a spicy little corn horn. My green mush was delicious! What a discovery. We drank, laughed and ate all the green mush – I mean vellutate di fava.

Oh, on a practical note. Carmella told me I didn’t have to peel and cook all the fava. I should freeze some for later. No, no, I said. On line it said you had to blanch them, toss them in an ice bath and generally spend too much time in the kitchen. She shrieked with laughter. Here in Pontelandolfo, women just toss the beans still in the pods in a zip lock bag. Work out all the air and toss them in the freezer! Damn! Who knew! Just another Monday in Pontelandolfo.

Ci vediamo!

Midge

Enjoying my blog – you will laugh out loud at my book!

Click Here To Visit My Publication Page.

PS: Here comes a begagraph – that is a paragraph where I beg you to do something. Something so easy it is definitely peasy. This November I would like to fill my calendar with readings of my funny memoir meets travel guide book about living in Pontelandolfo and driving. A reading of Cars, Castles, Cows and Chaos would be fun for all of us. Please pitch me to your bookclub, social club, Italian American club, local bar, library or bring me in as a guest to a class. When I am in New Jersey I love being busy. I also love acting out my work. So PLEASE FIND ME GIGS!

GRAZIE MILLE