Homemade Pasta

So last night on my way home from work, I was riding the T and thinking about what I wanted for dinner. My stomach was growling and I knew I didn't have a whole lot of options because I hadn't been grocery shopping in, ohhh, three weeks. And then I had a eureka moment. I knew exactly what I wanted.

Did you know you can turn this...

Into this?
Homemade pasta.
I've made it with my mom a few times, but it's not something we did very often and we almost always used some kind of pasta maker. Where I really learned to make homemade pasta was in Perugia while I was studying abroad. We took a day trip to a local farm, Orsini Farm, and there some old Italian Nonne taught us how to make homemade pasta entirely by hand.

It's super messy, but super easy. Easy enough that I can make it on week night. And I forgot how amazingly fresh homemade pasta tastes! I sauteed some shrimp in garlic, lemon and white wine and turned it into a scampi.
Buonissimo!

A Little Jaunt to Littly Italy

I had a doctor's appointment the other day. Doctor's appointments aren't normally that fun. Except when your doctor's office is on Hanover Street in the North End and you get to hang out with little old Italians in the waiting room.

My conversation with the receptionist went a little something like this:

Me: I have an appointment with at 11 am with Doctor ****.
Receptionist: *Looks at the computer and then eyes me suspiciously* What's you name?
Me: Domenica
Receptionist: You have a very old name. Very old. Where you get a name like that?
Me: *Tells the whole story*
Receptionist: I see you name on the schedule and I expect an old woman, not a young lady. We have two other patients with that name - one is 87, the other? 94. Old maids.

Wonderful.

My appointment was just a quick check-up, so I had a little bit of time to walk around and get some lunch. I love the North End. It's probably over stating the point to say that it's one of my favorite places on earth, but it's true. I love it. When I was walking around, I noticed that everyone I passed on the sidewalk nodded at me. Perhaps it was Italian men being, well, Italian men. But I like to think that they recognize me as part of their unique cultural tribe. A kindred spirit in our shared ancestry.

For lunch I got a sandwich from a little shop on a side street. Prosciutto, fresh mozzarella, tomatoes, and basil on ciabatta. All drizzled with extra virgin olive oil. I ate half for lunch and saved the other half for dinner.

It reminded me of a sandwich I used to get for lunch Perugia every other day from a place on via dei Priori called Parma. I have dreams about those sandwiches.

And I want to go back.
So I'm going to.

I've decided that before this year is out, I am going to make it back to Italy. Back to Perugia. And to Anagni. City of Popes and home to my family. I need to find some birth certificates after all...
:)

Scrivi a Giulietta

I just finished watching the movie Letters to Juliet.

It was a little uneven. Amanda Seyfried is not a very good actress, but Vanessa Regrave was just stunning. And I found myself caring far more about her character's love story than I did for the supposed female lead's. I'd give the movie itself... I don't know... a B? But I LOVE the idea behind the movie. The idea of throwing caution to the wind and taking a second chance, no matter what. The idea that true love does not fade. And I love, of course, that it was set in Italy. I loved hearing the bits of dialogue in Italian and the beautiful Italian countryside. For me, it made the movie seem a little like a fairytale (which it kind of was).

I've actually been to Verona. This was years ago, before I had a digital camera, when I did an exchange program in high school. My host family took me to Verona for the afternoon, and while we didn't do much sight-seeing they did take me to La Casa di Giulietta. It was pretty crowded when I was there, and I wasn't able to get up to the balcony myself, but it really is just as amazing in real life. A narrow, damp archway opens into a sunny brick courtyard. The walls are lined with graffiti and love notes in every langauge. And in the far corner stands a bronze statue of Juliet. You'll notice that while most of the statue is bright and shiny, both of her breasts are dull and matte. For good luck in love, you must grab her breasts and you'll see many people taking pictures doing just that.

After watching Letters to Juliet, I did a little research. I was only in Verona at Juliet's house for a few hours, and I was in awe of the amount of letters and tokens left there. I never thought about what would happen to them when the day was over. It turns out there actually is something called The Juliet Club. They answer all of the letters and notes left in Juliet's courtyard, giving advice and support, and maintaining the legend of Romeo & Juliet. How amazing is that?! One of the coolest parts is that you don't even have to visit Verona to have Juliet respond. You can simply write her at this address:

Club di Giulietta
via Galilei 3
37100 Verona, Italy

While I've never fully understood why you'd want to seek advice from a girl who ended up committing suicide (next to the body of her dead boyfriend), that's not going to stop me from writing. The English major nerd in me thinks this is one of the coolest ideas ever, and the unyielding romantic in me cannot resist it. In bocca al lupo. I'll let you know what she says!

Via Piantarose 7, or My Life in Perugia

As many of you know, I studied abroad in Italy in the fall of 2008. It was hands down the best experience of my life, thus far. I had the most amazing time, had some incredible experiences, and met some truly fantastic people. I lived for fourth months in a city called Perugia in a little apartment at via Piantarose 7.

Perugia is the capital of Umbria and is smackdab in the center of the country. It's home to the Perugina chocolate factory, Fontanna Maggiore, a Roman Aqueduct, Dempsey's Irish Pub, and Pizzeria Pompeii. And, as you can see, it's absolutely gorgeous. I think I'm going to do a series about Perugia and my life there, because there's way too much to include in just one post. For now, I'll start with soup.

For anyone who's been to Perugia during the winter, you know just how miserable it can be. It doesn't really snow in Perugia. It rains - A LOT. It doesn't actually get that cold in Perugia, but the cold it does get...it's that wet cold that seeps into your bones. That damp cold where no matter what you do you just can't seem to get warm. Two of my roommates, Krystal and Erica, shared a huge bedroom that became like our little living room. I can't even tell you how many times I wandered in there wearing sweatpants, two pairs of socks with slippers, multiple sweatshirts, a scarf, a hat, and mittens, and curled up on Krystal's bed, moaning, "I can't get warm!" We lucked out on our apartment (more on that later!) and had the greatest kitchen where we cooked every night and ate dinner together around our little table.

One of the ways we tried to combat the damp, Perugian winter was by making vast amounts of homemade soup.My adventure into soup-making began when I had a hard time finding canned soups at the markets and grocery stores, and the soup that I did find I didn't really like. I LOVE soup - I went through a phase as a child where it's literally all I ate - so you can imagine my frustration. One particularly cold, rainy day I got home from class and decided, what the hell? I'm making my own! I ran to a little market and bought all the fresh veggies I could find and set out to make my first batch of soup. And it was pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. We made soup about once a week and over time I perfect the recipe for what I've started calling "Perugian Vegetable Soup."

I wasn't feeling that great earlier in the week (and the cold, rainy weather here in Boston was very reminiscent of a Perugian winter), so I decided to make a big batch of soup. I start with potatoes, onion, carrots, celery, and garlic.
Then I throw everyone into the pot with some butter and lots of salt and pepper.
I saute them until they're tender, then I add in whatever other veggies I want (corn, peas, mushrooms, etc.) and my secret ingredients :)

Add in about 8 cups of water, and more salt and pepper to taste.

Then I let it simmer for about 10 minutes so all of the flavors can blend together. Sometimes I add chicken, but I just didn't have handy this time. I should mention the fact that I only know how to make this soup in huge quantities, but I separate into Tupperware containers and it keeps great in the fridge. I end up eating soup for like a week! I boiled some plain egg noodles and added them in the soup to make the perfect dinner. I also toasted up some ciabatta in a pan with some olive oil to dip in the soup. YUM!

The perfect comforting - and nostalgic - meal for a cold, rainy day. Buon appetito!

Viene, Viene La Befana!

Buon L'Epifania! Alright, The Feast of the Epiphany is actually tomorrow, but what happens tonight is so much better than any old feast... La Befana comes tonight! Who is La Befana you ask? Well, my friends, sit back at let me tell you the story of La Befana as it was told to me growing up:

Once upon a time there was a beautiful young Italian woman. She was married to a handsome man and together they had a lovely baby boy. Unfortunately both her husband and her son became very ill and died. Devastated and lost in her grief, the young woman shut herself in her little house and did nothing but clean day and night. Over the years her beauty faded until she became an ugly, decrepit old woman.

One day three wise men knocked on the door of her little house. They had heard that she was the best housekeeper in the village and they needed shelter for the night. During their stay, the three wise men told La Befana about the birth of the baby Jesus and invited her to come along on their journey to find the Christ child. She refused, for who would clean her little house if she left? Later, after the wise men had gone, La Befana had a change of heart. She cleaned her house one last time, then packed all of the toys that once belonged to her son in a sack, and flew away on her broom in search of baby Jesus. She was never able to find him, so to this day she flies around stopping at every house searching for the little baby and leaving presents for the children she finds.

Yes. La Befana is the Italian Christmas Witch. Not exactly the most cheerful holiday tale, is it? I've heard different versions of the story throughout the years and I think every family celebrates the tradition slightly different, but still... it's so great! My grandmother used to tell me that if I stayed awake to try and see La Befana, she would thump me on the head with her broom. What! What kind of absurd children's tale is that?! The idea horrified me when I was little, but now I think it's absolutely hysterical. Only the Italians would come up with such a terrifying yet lovable character.

My high school Italian Teacher pretending to be La Befana
for a class project!

In Italy there are all kinds of festivals celebrating La Befana. The town of Urbania, which is believed to be her home, holds a four day festival leading up to L'Epifania every year. There are all kinds of games, food, and music, and children can come to meet La Befana herself. I've also read that Venice hosts La Befana races on January 6th where men dressed as the witch race boats down the Grand Canal. How funny would that be to watch!


There is a fantastic version of the La Befana story called "The Legend of Old Befana" written and illustrated by Tomie dePaola. You can buy it here. He's also brought several other Italian children's tales to life, including his most popualar character, Strega Nonna.





Now children, here is what you need to do if you'd like La Befana to come visit you tonight. Leave your shoes outside your door when you go to sleep. I'd go with your biggest pair, maybe some boots, to have room for more treats. Leave some fruit and a glass of wine (yes, La Befana loves her vino) on a table because she'll be hungry and thirsty after such a long journey. If you've been good, when you wake up in the morning your shoe will be filled with fruit and candies and little toys. If you've been bad, you'll have cenere and carbone (ashes and coal). My brother and I usually found chocolates, tangerines or celmentines, and a movie or some little toy in our shoes...and always a lump of coal for good measure.

But remember, whatever you do, don't open your eyes or La Befana the Italian Witch will whack you on the head with her broom!