Happy July 4th!

Celebrate!

Grilled hot dogs and red-white and blue desserts

Sparkly sparklers dazzle innocent revelers

Family and friends happily gathered

A grassy knoll with picnic blanket or backyard lawn chair

Full bellies

Fire-flies as an opening act, ready, aim, fire!

BAM!

Festive fireworks fill the sky, streams of wafting smoke

Colors blaze and amaze

God Bless America!

P.S. If you wish to pay tribute to America and grow a deeper connection to our history, I highly suggest watching the HBO John Adams series. It is exceptional! I just finished it last week. Caroline- Thanks for the recommendation. I enjoyed every moving moment of that series. 

Pineapple-Gin Punch

I'm not a big hard-liquor drinker, but I do love a fun drink every now and then. I found this recipe in an old Bon Appetit magazine that I recently perused again.

The refreshing lime with sweet pineapple makes a lovely summer blend. Perfect for a small gathering. Enjoy!

Pineapple-Gin Punch
Dec. 07 Bon Appetit

1 cup water
1 cup sugar
1 Tab finely grated lime peel
2 cups pineapple juice
2 cups (or more) gin
2 cups club soda
3 1/2 Tab fresh lime juice
1/8 teaspoon of bitters or angostura bitters (Italian)
1 large pinapple, peeled, cored, cut into 1/3 inch cubes
ice - or ice block, if serving in punch bowl

Bring 1 cup water and sugar to a boil in small saucepan, stirring until sugar dissolves. Reduce heat and simmer 5 minutes. Mix in lime peel; cool syrup.

Combine pineapple juice, 2 cups gin, club soda, lime juice and bitters in punch bowl (or pitcher). Mix in pineapple cubes and enough sugar syrup to sweeten to taste. Add more gin if desired. Add ice or ice block if in bowl.

Roasted Veggies

It's so easy.

Heat up the oven to 400 degrees or so, slap some veggies on a baking sheet, drizzle with olive oil, grind pepper, sprinkle kosher salt - and voila! Sweet yummy, healthy vegetables in about 15-20 minutes.

The best thing: they will keep in the fridge for a few days, and they can be mixed into a variety of meals that are quick, easy and cheap.

1. Chop and stuff veggies in a wheat pita. Add lite feta cheese and balsamic vinegar, and a bit of fresh oregano or basil if you have it on hand.

2. Chop and serve over fresh pasta. Add rotisserie chicken or diced chicken breast for protein. Finish with Parmigiano-Reggiano on top.

3. Add to bulgher with a quick homemade red-wine/olive oil vinagrette. Throw in Greek or Italian olives and slivers of fresh basil.

4. Serve as a side to a freshly grilled steak (dotted with blue cheese).

5. Chop, add vinaigrette and serve on toasted bread wedges, the perfect crostini.

6. Dice up, add olives, and serve over baked fish or salmon.

7. Dice the veggies and add to rice as a nice side.

8. Take the mini-potatoes, warm-up in microwave, and add celery, green onions, chives, cooked/crumbled bacon or pancetta and toss with mustard vinaigrette for a German-style potato salad.

9. Slice and add to a basic ready-to-bake pizza.

Ok... are you getting the picture? They are so good for you, so cheap, so tasty and so versatile. Have a go! (Eggplants are usually a part of the mix too.)

Gatto della Madonna

  

"Ah, you have a cat of the Madonna!" the Italian man said to me at my first vist to the vets with Ella-Bella. He too was there for check-up with his new, almost identical kitty.

"Ah, what?" I asked.

"A gatto della Madonna. Cat of the Madonna. See, she has the letter "M" on her forehead."

Well, all be darn! She sure does. Can you see it? The black stripe between her ears makes the letter "M" quite clearly.

I had never heard of this expression, but since she was found in Italy, in the heart of Roman lands, in the remains of the ancient Pozzuoli amphitheatre, it's quite appropriate.

I guess Leonardo di Vinci did several sketches of a cat with the Madonna, but an actual painting was either never completed or never found.

At one point, a painting was presented in Milan in the 1900s that was deemed the lost Madonna with the Cat painting. It was temporarily exhibited and then disappeared from the public for years. At the death of a Turin artist, Cesare Tubino, in 1988, it was revealed that the painting was in fact his, not di Vinci's. Below is the fake.

I don't have a di Vinci, nor a fake, but I can offer a few fun pics of this sweet little kitty who climbs a basket like a swinging monkey.

   

  

Celebrate the Music, Not the Man

The news of Michael Jackson's death has reached us here in Italy. Talk of his death has even creeped into casual grocery-store conversations while waiting in line to pay. There is such a mix of reactions, views that run the full spectrum of sadness to ambivalence to disgust at the man.

All of them are right, to a degree.

Michael Jackson's own life ran the spectrum, from young musical prodigy to just flat weirdo. Whether you remember the man moon walking across the floor to his #1 chart-stopping songs, or hidden behind surgical masks and sleeping in oxygen tanks (remember that?), or dangling his toddler over a balcony rail (aghast!), or sitting trial for child molestation charges (eventually acquitted to many people's dismay), he has earned his place in music history.

I fondly remember my days growing up on Motown. My dad was a big drummer and my mom a piano player. We many spent happy weekends dancing in our diapers with tambourines in our hands on our raised platform like a mini-stage in our family room. One of my first childhood concerts was with my parents at the Jackson 5 re-union in Jacksonville, Florida. I still have the concert brochure wrapped in a box of school-kid memorabilia. (Somewhere in the States.)

A little later in youth, I remember personally loving the Thriller album (or tape cassette for me), playing it over and over again in attempts to mimic his soulful slightly effeminate voice, to no avail. Singing was not my forte! I can still remember the hype leading up to the release of the almost mini-movie musical video Thriller on MTV, when they still played music videos. The video was ground-breaking and all the talk. How many people copied those moves, those scary outfits for Halloween?

The older Michael Jackson got, the weirder he became, his face so unrecognizable like the man himself. I liked him and his music less and less.  

With his death all the news, I personally prefer to celebrate the music, and definitely not the man. His moves are worthy of following, his lyrics worthy of singing, but his lifestyle was worthy of not much.

The question is, can you honor a person's works and not the person? Can you separate the praise from the person himself?

Quite a few of history's great producers - of art, of music, of science, of politics - were troubled souls. Their personal lives far from stellar, yet their singular focus on a God-given (yes? no?) talent marked the world forever. 

Today I am choosing to focus on Michael Jackson's musical legacy. Music that still makes me "rock with you....all night" and because it moves me to not "...stop 'til you get enough." It rocks, it has soul, and it will always be a part of youthful musical memories. Man or no man.

Burnt "Siena"

  

Warm tones of brown, like a mix of hot cream poured onto old rust, coats Siena in a color worthy of a Crayola crayon. A city still in the shadows of its historic rival, this Tuscan town is within an hour's journey outside the greater-visited Florence. Today the debate still continues, as to which is the better of the two, (Florence for me. Siena for others.) but either way, Siena

is worthy of a visit.

The city's connection to Rome, however, is on a fundamental level more intriguing. In mythical lore, the son of Remus - Senius - is said to have found the city. His father along with his twin brother Romulus were born of a vestal virgin and Mars, the god of war, and later started Rome. Abandoned by the Tiber river at birth, they were nursed by a wolf, a legend that finds expression and celebration in stone quite frequently throughout both cities.

Today Siena is easily explored with the Medieval Gothic historic center car-free and tourist friendly. Redbrick lanes and alleys circle and dive while long lengths of stairs wonder through lean arches off the main square, Piazza Del Campo. The basin-like piazza is circled by grand buildings, fountains and even an ornate chapel built in 1348 to praise the end of the Black Death, a terrible part of history that reduced the city's population by 1/3. (Siena never re-covered; its population today still sits at its post-Black Death number of 60,000.)

   

Once outside the original city walls, Il Campo later became a central market for the cities competing neighborhoods, known as contrade. Medieval vibrancy then is replaced today by gelato-eating sun-burned explorers.

Twice a year eager tourists and city dwellers in the modern world share the piazza with visitors of another sort: horses. Hooves pound the brick ground and ride the piazza's half-moon and city streets in a speedy race that requires roping mattresses to building corners to prevent harm. Loyalties to horse and neighborhood are shown through flapping silk flags featuring traditional colors and symbols (a crowned dragon, for instance), offered for sale at every street corner, even during non-race times.

From the early 13th century to modern time, the city's crowning jewel has most certainly been the dark green and white-striped Duomo. Gorgeous and grand, the Renaissance ornateness is an expression of impressive artists of the time and beyond: Michelangelo, Bernini, Nicola Pisano, and the Umbrian painter Pinturicchio, to name a few. One's eye does not rest as you wonder from Pisano's octagonal marble pulpit resting on the backs of lions, to Duccio's stained glass rose window (the original in the museum for protection), to Bernini's glittering chapel, spiritually and aesthetically breathtaking, and a shining testament to his definitive place in art history. 

Tourism is certainly alive and well in this classy city, but it still retains a sense of self, aware yet not obsessed by the constant flow of visitors. It is not necessarily a "charming" city, like Asissi, or quaint like smaller Tuscan towns, but vibrates with a confidence and assurance of its place in the past, the present and most assuredly the future. She will burn a strong impression on wayfarers, washing them with colors of beauty and ease, wonder and elegant endurance.

More pictures can be found here.

Sushi in Napoli?

E: "Why are you taking pictures of our food tonight?"

Panda: "Because sushi in Naples is something to blog about!"

E: "True!"

Over a million people live in the Napoli area. There are probably hundreds of thousands of restaurants. Italian restaurants, that is. Solo. Only.

Italians are crazy about their food. Can you blame them? Most of it is fantastic, and all the world covets their cuisine. I can imagine there is an Italian restaurant in just about every major city around the world, and many in even the smallest country town in America. 

But this you can be certain: there is no reciprocity in this food exchange.

Italians eat Italian food. Period. End of story. In fact, once you have spent time in this country, you can practically forgo menus because just about every restaurant offers the same food. 

Americans in Napoli seek alternatives. I believe that is why so many of us actually succumb to the few McDonald's around town, or the horrible base food (Subway, A&W, KFC). It might be greasy junk, but at least it isn't Italian.

Now, don't get me wrong. I can eat Italian food quite regularly (but not for one month, like I could Thai! Did you get that one right on my "How well do you know Amanda" Facebook quiz? heehee).

For months now, I've been hearing about a few sushi restaurants in downtown Napoli. The verdicts ranged from "really good" to "just OK." Either way, we were more than game to try.

Last night we joined our friends J and A at their favorite, "Tokyo" ("Ristorante Giapponese") just around the corner from the American Consulate. By all appearances, it certainly looked like the real deal. The real Japanese men behind the counter preparing the steady stream of sushi platters and boats was encouraging.

The menu was classic sushi-house, offering everything from sashimi to nigiri sushi to tempura to steamed dumplings, with a side of edamame and a can of Sapporo beer. A bit on the expensive side for sushi, but hey, it's Napoli! 

What trips you out, more than the mere fact of eating sushi in downtown Naples, is listening to the all-Asian staff (Chinese and Japanese) speaking Italian. What an interesting cultural contrast: the soft, full-bodied Romance language come from mouths that typically spurt out choppy Asian words. In addition, it did not appear that any of the staff spoke English, quite in-line with the rest of Neopolitans who also rarely do.

My verdict on this sushi restaurant: just fine. Not great. Not bad. But if you're craving that diversity, those Asian flavors in an Asian setting, then it's a suitable option, especially when you don't have many here. We'd definitley do it again.

Tokyo

Via S. Maria Della Neve, 26, Napoli

Phone: 081-761-2936

(By the way, I am not a huge fan of sushi in the first place, still haunted by a bad batch almost 12 years ago in Atlanta, Georgia. My husband is a secret "sushi snob" having had the world's best in Japan.)

(You can read more about lack of food diversity here.) 

    

Summer Fun

   

  

Life is good when the summer sun shines, and sprinkled water tickles our undersides!

Peanut and Buddy catching a reprieve from the heat. Thanks Nana for the umbrellas, that have now found a summer-time use.

Cooking Class - Italian Style, of Course!

One of the great joys of living in Italy is of course, the food!

Learning to use local ingredients and prepare authentic cuisine increases your intimacy with your host country, as well as allow you to take a bit home with you when we all eventually leave Italy. (Sadly, I'll never get my hands on such great Campania-grown tomatoes!)

Several weeks ago I joined a fun group of women for a cooking class out on Monte di Procida. Mariella - fantastic Italian chef and friend to all - opens her family-run restaurant La Taverna dei Sapori to private week-day cooking classes for either small or large groups, depending on your needs.

Have some Italian specialties you are dying to duplicate in your home kitchen? Or just love all foods Italian? (Like me.) Either way, you can't go wrong at La Taverna's classes. Mariella will suggest a list of dishes for you, or you can customize the class, as we did.

We chose to focus on antipasti or appetizers, with loads of "stuffing" involved:

      Ricotta-stuffed fresh zucchini blossoms

      Grilled, rolled and stuffed eggplants with fresh tomato sauce

      Beef-stuffed zucchini "boats"

......and my favorite: zeppolini!

   

The group was larger than normal (so I hear) but Mariella kept us moving and cooking, with lulls only to eat, share a few laughs, and sip our glasses of wine.

Mariella is organized, which helps keep us focused, promotes learning, and leaves you feeling like you can truly duplicate the recipes. Of course, she's Italian, so nothing is rushed and it's all about "getting a little dirty in the kitchen" as she said to me, meaning, relax, have fun. Bonus: she actually walks you through the recipes beforehand, providing paper and pen, and gives you measurements, handy tips and cooking temperatures. 

The kitchen is newly renovated (or has been since my last visit to the restaurant last winter), and for me personally, I loved the clean, professional cooking environment with stainless steel preparation counters, restaurant-quality tools and built-in fryers.

The stuffed and fried zucchini blossoms were a favorite, the delicate early-summer bloom that is both beautiful and delicious. "Gentile" Mariella warned us, showing us how to clean and remove the pistil, found deep inside the flower. Seasoned Ricotta cheese is then placed within, to squish-out warm and soft after fried with a delicate batter.

 

Italian ricotta cheese, by the way, is nothing like the American-style goopy stuff bought in the States, I'm sorry to say. It comes in several forms, and is so delicious here it would probably make a slice of cardboard taste yummy!

Are you hungry yet? After preparing and cooking, we all had worked up an appetite. First out of the kitchen were baskets of fried dough balls speckled with shredded zucchini flowers which we passed about and greedily gobbled up, licking the leftover salt off our fingers. The local favorite zeppollini is typically studded with fresh seaweed. However, as Mariella explained, seaweed is only good when the waters are calm, otherwise, it's too dirty and not worth the hassle.

   

So, want to know what is really the best part about cooking class? Eating!

After all the cooking was complete, the "stuffing" theme continued. The entire group sat down to one large table on the front patio to consume the finished products. Mariella and her happy-faced husband Pepe graciously served us - with perfectly grilled bruschetta thrown it as well - and kept the local Falanghina white wine flowing. 

La dolce vita! The sweet life! For certain! 

Gratzie mille Carrie for arranging a fun day. Can't wait to do it again this fall when the kids are all in school, the weather has cooled, and bathing-suit season is over. ☺

Gladiator Days

 

The ancient roar of 40,000 fans still haunts the lower quarters. Just a few steps from the bustling Pozzuoli streets, the underground shadows and surprisingly contrasting quiet corridors of the Anfiteatro flavio offer an almost eerie testament of history. A cruel history. Ancient sports so barbaric that it is often hard to comprehend as an educated woman of the modern world.

 

Imperial Rome could be so impressively sophisticated and advanced (working plumbing, gorgeous architecture, writing and learning, a Senate) yet so deeply savage. Watch the 5-Oscar award-winner Gladiatorfor a Hollywood glimpse of man's cruel depths. At a minimum, the movie impresses one with the history of Roman politics and war, inextricable from Roman atrocities of murder, deceit, and cunning, and more sadly, the astoundingly desperate life of the poor and the slaves. Unparalleled disparity between the pomp and pageantry of the rich and the wretched fate of the powerless majority.

Gladiators practically came to life after a visit to an ancient amphitheatre just minutes from my house. The city, Puteoli (Pozzuoli), was once a world port with impressive influence. Advantageous in geographical placement and proximity to Rome, as well as its "ability to set up communication routes with the hinterland," the Roman settlement prospered, and eventually became "one of the most important trading posts in the whole Mediterranean." (Campi Flegrei, p. 145) Goods from Asia to Greece, from Africa to Arabia, made their way into this multi-cultured and diverse Roman strong-hold. Can you imagine the variety of languages spoken here? The exotic smells and sights, all set in Mediterranean cliffs, volcanic lands, and turquoise waters?

As a world renowned port, Puteoli was the only Roman city - besides Rome - to sport two amphitheatres. One survives today only as ruins, and the other in strikingly excellent condition, open to exploring for a meager 4 euros.

This larger, preserved amphitheatre was in fact the 3rd largest in the ancient world, behind only Rome (1st) and Capua (2nd). Mostly likely built during the 1st century under Nero's rule, the structure had three-tiered seating, over 16 entrances to regulate pedestrian flow, and was constructed in an oval shape. It was a world-class facility, a dramatic architectural feat, built of marble, wood, oven-fired bricks and cut stone.

   

As you descend down below the arena floor, cavernous rooms and long service tunnels extend in a labyrinth like fashion, but with an impressive and obvious sense of plan and purpose. You can almost feel the ancient chaos of slaves tending to exotic animals housed in the arched brick niches still visible today, held for use in "hunting" games; hear the clanking of the slave-gladiators' chains as they prepare for battle and ultimately, death; and smell blood, dirt and rot emanating from dark tunnels where the dead and injured were kept during the games. Still visible in the ceiling, trap doors remind you of their barbaric purpose, to transport materials, animals and other items to the once wooden arena floor by an elaborate pulley system. 

But still, what really strikes you most is the opportunity to explore both the underground and the arena above with freedom, and on this mid-week day, almost entirely alone. Rome's Colosseum is blocked off and such a tourist trap (understandably); in contrast, Pozzuoli's amphitheatre offers intimacy, easy access, and is certainly impressive. It is a rare opportunity to be up-close-and-personal with ancient history in an historically significant site with unmatched access. In short, it's not to be missed!

    

As you may recall, my friend Laura and I have committed to weekly explorations of the amazing history literally out our back doors. This was last week's adventure -- which also had side-effect: a new kitty! See below. "Ella-bella" (she-beautiful) seems to have made her way into our hearts, and hence a permanent place in our home. Go figure!

Full set of amphitheatre pics here.

Killer Onion Rings

Baked! shhhh.....

I was doubtful. How could baked onion rings really stand-up to fried? Was it possible to create the crunchy "crust" with soft, sweet onion inside without a deep fryer? (Something I have resisted buying for years.)

Verdict: YES. My husband's words to be exact: "Damn! these are good!"

We were fighting for the last few crispy rings.

If you like onion rings but like me consume them only rarely for they are just yummy circles of artery-clogging fat, you can safely dine on these a bit more often.

A really hot oven with pre-heated baking pan, along with corn-flakes (yup! generic box worked great for me) are the secrets. Everyday Food's June issue (which coincidentally I only received 100 pgs of the typically 150 pgs, the other portion torn and lost in the mail?) featured the baked onion rings under "Eat Smart" on pg. 30-32. I'm so glad I tried them! You should too. And don't forget the ketchup.

Baked Onion Rings
(adapted from Everyday Food, issue 63, pg. 32)

1 1/2 cups cornflakes
1/2 cup plain dried breadcrumbs*
1 large egg
1/2 cup low-fat buttermilk*
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 medium sweet onion, such as Vidalia, sliced into rings (small center rings discarded)*
2 tablespoons olive oil

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees. In food processor, pulse corn-flakes and breadcrumbs until fine crumbs form, then transfer to a medium bowl.
2. In second bowl, whisk together egg, buttermilk, flour and cayenne, and season with salt and pepper.
3. Dip onion rings in egg mixture (letting excess drip off) and dredge in cornflake mixture; place on a large plate. Meanwhile, pour olive oil into a rimmed baking sheet, and place in oven for 2 minutes. Remove sheet from oven and tilt to coat evenly with oil.
4. Arrange onion rings on sheet. Bake for about 8 minutes, flip over, then continue to bake about 7-8 more minutes, until onion rings are golden brown. Season with salt.

My substitutes:

Buttermilk - Our commissary only had full-fat, which worked fine but look forward to trying with low-fat.

Onions - I did not have a Vidalia onion, so I used two mild yellow onions.

Breadcrumbs - I rarely use the boxed stuff, but I did this time. Actually, all I had was Progresso's Parmesan crumbs, and they were fabulous. I will use them again since they worked deliciously here.

Cornflakes - I used generic, cheap kind. The rest of the box will go to "fried" chicken, which is basically crushed cornflakes, olive oil, and cayenne pepper, on chicken pieces, bake at 400 degrees.

Oh No! Meow...

How does exploring this... (Pozzuoli Roman Amphitheatre)

   

EQUAL = This..... (adorable kitty just 4-5 weeks old)??????

I'm not sure! But I can say one thing, my hubbie is going to seriously question my weekly outings with my friend Laura! ☺

Some how we spent a few hours touring the 3rd largest amphitheatre in ancient history, amazingly only a few minutes from our homes, and wound up both headed home with sister kitties, amphitheatre orphans full of life and youthful play-fullness.

I have resisted countless times saving so many animals here - homeless, street animals are everywhere and this is no exaggeration. Somehow, I could not let this one pass me up.

I'm not sure her final destination is in our home (although my initially upset husband has already started discussing names). We'll see. But one thing is certain, she and her sister had a fate something other than the gladiators that formerly roamed their birth place.

(Above with Buddy's "black cat" and Peanut's "cat" to make a "cat family")

Need I mention how excited the children are? I found this sticky-note on the counter, written by Peanut.

(P.S. I'll be blogging about the amazing amphitheatre in a few days!)