Grah-zee-AY

May 24, 2015

Last night I dreamt in Italian but I couldn’t understand everything. Or respond. Erin said that’s how it starts – thinking in Italian, or any foreign language.  I’m trying to work on words & pronunciation.  Turns out, I’ve been mispronouncing “Grazie!” my entire life.  My Florentine trained sister continues to correct even my simple things. “Grat-zee” becomes “Grah-zee-ay.”  Oooff.

This morning we woke to have breakfast at Gianni’s.  He made us bacon and eggs.  They were delicious! Normally I prefer crispy bacon, charred just before the point of becoming bacon bits.  I consider the breakfast meat bacon, if only for the fact that it was warm & once oinked.  For those in  the US, this was probably closer to warmed prosciutto. And it was fabulous! I loved observing Gianni in the kitchen; his techniques were to be admired. For example – our eggs were not cracked on the side of a pan.  No, no.  They were cracked with a knife.  I liked this technique. 

After breakfast, we got ready and sat on the balcony.  It was a beautiful morning in Turin.  The sun was out.  It wasn’t too hot or too cold.  After enjoy the last bit of the view from Gianni and Antonella’s balcony, we loaded up the car and Antonella drove all of us to the train station.

Gianni escorted us to the train.  We had a little bit of a wait, as the train was delayed a bit.  Once seated, I sat across from Erin, facing her on our trip to Firenze.  Her seat was by the door.  A man sat next to me.  The train had no problem picking up speed and making up for the lost time.  Thank you 190 mph train!

Upon arrival at the Firenze train station, we found a man wearing a suit, and holding a little piece of paper, “Montemurro.”  Erin waved at the man & he calmly folded his piece of paper.  I was just thankful that our train wasn’t delayed any later.  If so, we would’ve had to call for a separate service to pick us up and escort us to our apartment.  Our drive from the train station was short.  By Chicago standards, we could’ve walked if necessary, but Erin reminded me our luggage may not have made the walk given the cobblestone.  I couldn’t get over the Mercedes van we rode in to our hotel.  The interior of the van was beautiful and I could’ve eaten off of the floor or leather seats. 

The streets were PACKED with people, seemingly oblivious to the large van trying to pass through the narrow streets. A few minutes later we arrived at Residence Hilda where we rented an apartment for the week.

I’m writing this from our 5^th (top) floor apartment.  Or maybe it’s the 4^th.  I can’t remember. In Italy, they start counting at “0” not “1.”

Once we settled in, letting the disbelief sink in that we were going to stay in this fun little apartment for the week, we took our first full showers (rinsing off at Gianni’s was different) in Italy, then went out to explore Firenze.  We had to welcome Erin back to her city!

At the end of our block is the Duomo.  It is so close it is surreal.  Truly.  I keep waiting to run into the backdrop of a movie set, but no – it’s the real thing, literally a stone’s throw from me.

We walked to see the Ponte Vecchio, the bridge Erin crossed every day on her walk to class, and then a small street festival where I ordered “3 Arancini” (BY MYSELF!).

Erin got us each an Italian Hamburger for 3.90 Euro.  We then got Gelato at Gelateria Santa Trinita and walked toward the bridge and let the Ponte Vecchio come into full view.  This was a magical dessert-ing experience.  We were in Firenze and I could tell in the first hours that these streets carried a different energy.

After we finished our gelato, we walked to the grocery store, where we bought some fruit & yogurt for morning, as well as wine and cheese for the evenings.  There were SO MANY Americans out!  OH TOO MANY SELFIE STICKS! I swear, with all the selfie sticks I saw today, that is motivation in itself to learn Italian. And maybe use a few choice words. ;-)

Anyways, its been a full day and I’m off to bed.  Tomorrow should be another adventure. And there will be lots of walking!

Nostra storia. Our story.

May 23, 2015

I woke up late! 10:45 late!  I can’t believe it!!! I’m embarrassed I slept that late.

Erin was going to wake me earlier, but Gianni told her to let me sleep.  ON the plus side, maybe all of this sleep means I’ve fully switched my sleep schedule.

I rushed to get ready and we headed to Meana, about an hour’s drive from Turin to have lunch with Aldo, Nana’s first cousin and Gianni's Dad. This time, we rode in Gianni’s Fiat (the size I’m familiar with, not the larger cross-over like vehicle Gianni picked us up in yesterday).

For as long as I can remember, my Nana has kept in touch with her cousin Aldo.  He’s her pen pal and despite the distance and language barrier, they’ve always found translators to stay in touch.  I knew this was going to be a special day.   

We first drove to Aldo’s home, passing Albergo Bella Vista – a place I’d only heard about from my parents or other family members.  Little did I realize, that’s where our lunch destination was!

The restaurant was dark and vacant but all tables are set, ready and waiting for guests.  A large German Shepherd is laying at the door and barely acknowledges that we’ve walked in the door.  An old woman greeted us.  She reminds me of the fictitious children’s character from my children’s books, “Strega Nona.”  I find it difficult to describe this woman any other way.  (I may have stepped into a Strega Nona book for all I know!) Surprisingly, when Gianni & Aldo introduced us to the woman, she said she remembered my parents from their visit several years prior.   

The meal was large, with several courses, all of which “Strega Nona” has gone back to the kitchen to prepare herself.   Some dishes were familiar, others weren’t. I’m just glad I have the chance to eat the largest grissini I’ve ever seen and is something of legend.  While the restaurant in the hotel feels magical, just like Strega Nona, I almost feel that I’ve interrupted something precious by being there.

Afterward, we drove Aldo home.  He made sure to point out the surrounding houses, where our other relatives live.  We stopped to take a photo with Aldo in front of his house and commemorate the day and have a token to bring Nana. We finally met her cousin!   Aldo was emotional as we said goodbye. I found myself fighting the inevitable welling in my eyes too. This man, this long lost relative that I’d known but never met yet in life, was standing in front of me at 86 years old.  I don’t know when or if I’ll have the opportunity to see Aldo again, but I’m here. And for that, I’m grateful.

After we left Aldo, we took a short drive to the other side of the valley, where our family’s house, church, and cemetery sit.  As we parked on the narrow road and walked through a break in the half abandoned buildings, the church came into full view.  Gianni calmly said to us, “This is our history.”

This town that Nana’s family is from, is so beautiful and quaint and I feel as though I’ve stepped back in time.   This place will remain.

We move on.

Upon returning to Torino, Gianni took us for a walk in the park in Torino and the first thing we stumbled on was packet pick-up for a half marathon the next day.  Gianni asked if I wanted to run! Can’t say I didn’t contemplate it, but I knew we had a schedule to keep.  I resolved to make a return trip and run a future race in Italy instead.

I found myself getting anxious on our walk as we were keeping a walking speed I’ve never known.  We’re fast walkers in my family.   This feeling quickly left when we stumbled on a replica Renaissance building, where children were singing and giving a public concert in the middle of this replica square.  I noticed Erin’s excitement at this experience and Gianni is as calm as ever.  I decided to channel their outlook, forgetting the time (I mean, where else do we need to be?!).  I am in Italy & should live the Italian life. Enjoy each moment. There is no need to rush. Simply enjoy life and this beautiful day that we’ve been given.

We finished the day with dinner at Tartufi. Antonella’s children Marta & Luca joined us. I savored every last bite of my dinner – pasta with shaved truffles.  Hands down, the best truffles I’ve ever had.  The owner stopped sat at our table as we were finishing and much to my dismay, he matter-of-factly assured me this is now his only restaurant (he used to have one in the States). I will have no luck finding such a good truffle dish unless I return.  I’m ok with that idea.

*As I am typing my notes from this day I have shed a few tears.  My emotions from that day have come flooding back to me as I now know, our upcoming trip will be missing a piece.  Aldo passed away last month at 88.   I will miss the man I hardly knew and felt so connected to.  Just like the buildings that are my family’s history, Aldo is part of my story.

❤

Lasciando e ritornando. Leaving and returning.

I’m Elisabeth, the oldest sister to “Erinina.”  At least that’s the nickname I gave her as a child.  You see, I gave her this name for two reasons. 1) She’s the baby girl of the “3 E’s”  - “nina” translates to “little girl” in Spanish. While physically Erin was only little to me for a short time, she’ll always be my baby sister.  2) As kids, we tried to make Erin not so… Irish.    Yes, Irish.  Erin believed she was the only one in our family that got to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. Apparently having an Irish name, automatically makes you Irish. So, there you go.  

So why am I guest blogging on “Returning to the Motherland,” Erinina’s blog?  Because I’m doing just that - Returning to the Motherland, with Erin Giulia.

In anticipation of our upcoming trip, I’ve been revisiting journal entries and notes from my maiden voyage to The Motherland with Erin in May 2015.  The upcoming posts are retold from these entries.  Enjoy!

May 21, 2015

This is it! I could burst out of my body I’m so excited.  As I am less than a year into my job at the Chicago Tribune, my vacation time is still somewhat limited, and in order to get every, last, bit,  of, time in Italy, I worked a half day this morning.  Erin took the Metra into town and met me in the Loop mid-day.  In doing so, we could easily hop on the Blue Line and head to O’Hare together.  I love Chicago for its transit. Except for maybe today and the extra large suitcases we both have in tow. I don’t usually pack this much and am thinking about all of the unnecessary things I probably packed and the things I’m probably missing. Stupid suitcase. Your size makes me think I need to fill you at the start of the trip, when I know its to reserve space for Italian purchases.

After getting through security at O’Hare, Erin and I decided to take advantage of the International Terminal. Read – THE BEST FOOD O’Hare has to offer. Erin, having never eaten at a Rick Bayless restaurant, we grabbed our last land meal at Frontera Grill.  We were also trying to avoid some food options, rationalizing that if we’re going to be eating Italian food for two weeks, kick off the trip with a Chicago celeb-chef.  And margaritas.  Oh, the delicious margaritas. Erin and I finished our meal, paid for by Mom & Dad – a little send off cash they sent with Erin on the train, and headed to our gate.  Unable to contain our excitement, we made final calls to the parents and sent some obligatory selfies via Snapchat.

I’m not excited about the small airplane seating I’m about to be in for the next 10 hours. But LETS DO THIS! ITALY HERE WE COME!

Somewhere over the Atlantic

WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?!? I’m hot. I’m cold. I’m sweating. My heart is racing. What did I eat?  What did I drink? Was it all the free wine on Alitalia? No. The plane pasta dish? Maybe? Oh! The margaritas at the airport! Yes. That’s it. Has to be. But, that was like... 3 hours ago… 4..???  That couldn’t make me feel this weird…

I’ve woken up from my first attempt to sleep on the plane.  I couldn’t have been asleep for more than an hour. Erin is awake too.  Wide awake.  

Erin said to me, “This isn’t working!”

No shit. Wait. What? Damn. She’s right.  This is when I realize I’ve made a mistake.  I’ve seriously failed my natural medicine experiment.  In an attempt to trick my body into the time change and get ahead of inevitable jet lag, I’ve taken advice from one of my co-workers and purchased melatonin vitamins for Erin and I. They clearly have had an adverse effect.  We’re over the middle of the Atlantic ocean.  It’s 2:00 am in Italy, and I’m nowhere near sleeping. I’m wide-awake as if I’ve just run 8 miles and consumed coffee and I feel like jumping out of my skin. NEVER. NEVER AGAIN. Damn you melatonin.

*Note: If anyone wants a 2-year old bottle of melatonin vitamins, I’m happy to share. Barely used.

May 22, 2015

We made it! I’m breathing in Italian air for the first time and it is magical!  Our cousin Gianni picked us up at the airport and I was so excited, I botched the cultural greeting I’ve known since birth – a kiss on each cheek at embrace.   Upon meeting Gianni, he ushered us over to the stand to get “un café!” I’m glad for the caffeine too. If this trip is anything like my last trip overseas, I know I’m going to be functioning on LOTS of coffee. (Pretty sure the number of naps I took in Norway and Sweden made up for all of the naps I ‘faked' in grade pre-school.)

Gianni drove us to his home and we made a stop at a store on the way.  It seemed like a long wait while he was in the store, but I didn’t care. I was taking it all in. Just like other countries I’ve visited, I feel more alert, more aware of my surroundings, feeling more like a tourist than when traveling in the US. Not only are the sights different, but the sounds and smells too.  I love all of it.  My excitement and emotions are all over the place – mixed with joy and disbelief that I FINALLY made it. I’ve only been dreaming of this place since I was 8 years old, and 20 years later, I’m finally here.

We arrive at Gianni & Antonella’s home, greeted by:  a picturesque and inclined drive, building architecture I’ve only ever equated to “mid-century mod” but I know this is its own design, and a very talkative dog, “MIA!” I still don’t know whether she likes strangers, or if Antonella is simply the “Mia Whisperer.”

After we got settled and took in the view from Gianni & Antonella’s balcony, we drove into town and walked around Turin.  I couldn’t have asked for a better first day in the Motherland. Complete with the soft chocolate hazelnut treats from Guido & Gobino and Gianni’s homemade risotto and sausage.

 The view from Gianni and Antonella's balcony.

  Overlooking Torino.

  Erin Giulia and Antonella walking through the streets of Torino.