Un Giorno in Italia

#MM Gianna Nannini: “Meravigliosa Creatura”

I have really enjoyed listening to various Italian artists and translating the lyrics, so I decided to start doing “Mercoledì Musicale” (Musical Wednesdays).  Hopefully you enjoy them as much as I do! :)

This week I’m posting a song one of my Italian teachers introduced me to, “Meravigliosa Creatura” by Gianna Nannini.  This is the acoustic version (which I much prefer).  

Molti mari e fiumi (Many seas and rivers…)

attraverserò, (…I will cross)

dentro la tua terra (inside your earth…)

mi ritroverai. (…you will find me again)

Turbini e tempeste (Cyclones and storms…)

io cavalcerò, (…I will ride)

volerò tra i fulmini (I will fly between the lightings…)

per averti. (…to have you)

Meravigliosa creatura, (Marvelous creature)

sei sola al mondo, (you are alone in the world)

meravigliosa paura (Marvelous fear…)

di averti accanto, (…to have you near)

occhi di sole (Eyes of sun)

bruciano in mezzo al cuore (They burn in the middle of my heart) 

amo la vita meravigliosa. (I love the marvelous life)

Luce dei miei occhi, (Light of my eyes)

brilla su di me, (Shine on me)

voglio mille lune (I want a thousand moons…)

per accarezzarti. (…to caress you)

Pendo dai tuoi sogni, (I hang from your dreams)

veglio su di te. (Keep watch over you)

Non svegliarti, non svegliarti ancora. (Don’t wake up, don’t wake up yet)

Meravigliosa creatura, (Marvelous creature)

sei sola al mondo, (You are alone in the world)

meravigliosa paura (Marvelous fear)

di averti accanto. (to have you near)

Occhi di sole, (Eyes of sun)

mi tremano le parole, (The words shake me)

amo la vita meravigliosa. (I love the marvelous live)

Meravigliosa creatura, (Marvelous creature)

un bacio lento, (A slow kiss)

meravigliosa paura (Marvelous fear…)

di averti accanto. (…to have you near)

All’improvviso (All of a sudden…)

tu scendi nel paradiso. (…you descend into heaven)

muoio d’amore meraviglioso (I die from a marvelous love)

Lake Como: Il Caminetto Cookery Class

This might win the medal for my favorite day in Italy.  Ever.  

It was the first week of April and there were very, very few people in Varenna (of course, there were very, very few things open in Varenna, too).  I walked out of my hotel into Piazza San Giorgio just before 9:30am and, other than one lone man standing on the edge of the square, no one was in sight.  Moreno, the chef at Il Caminetto, had emailed me instructions to wait in the main square and he would come pick up all of the students for his cooking class.  I wasn’t sure if this other guy was waiting for the same reason, though, and feeling a bit awkward I stood on the other side of the piazza.

Right at 9:30am a grey SUV drove into the square and a man whom I vaguely recognized from traveler photos on TripAdvisor stepped out and shook hands with the guy on the other side of the square.  I walked over and sure enough, it was Moreno from Il Caminetto.

I got in the backseat and Paul (the-other-man-in-the-square) climbed in front.  Turns out his wife and son were supposed to have joined us as well, but unfortunately his son had gotten sick the day before.  :(  We went over to the port where a New York couple, Pam and Eric, were just getting off the ferry from Bellagio.  They piled in back with me and Mareno began navigating the narrow, windy roads up the hill and over to Perledo, the small - and when I say small I mean “tiny” - village where his restaurant is located.

We pulled up to a collection of stone buildings, one with a weather-worn wooden sign proclaiming “Ristorante al Caminetto” (Restaurant at the Fireplace).  There wasn’t another sole to be seen.  The village felt deserted, almost like a ghost town, and I have to admit it was a little creepy. 

The energy changed, though, as soon as we stepped over the threshold into Moreno’s restaurant.  Warm blond wooden beams traversed the ceiling and smaller, curved planks of the same wood separated sections of tables with red plaid tablecloths and slat-backed dark wooden chairs.  Copper plates and knick knacks dotted the white plaster walls.  It felt like a home kitchen.  The brick fireplace was cold but warmth emanated from every inch of this place.

And then I saw it, the painting that made me want to adopt Moreno as my eccentric uncle:

A large, full color canvas of Pope John Paul II.

Time to get down to business.  Though I had seen pictures online of Moreno conducting class down in the main section of the restaurant with 10 or so people, it was the first week of April (pre-high-season for tourists) and there were only four the of us, so he had set us up in a small raised area toward the back of the room (and right under the painting of JPII).  

We were going to prepare tagliatelle with a tomato, zucchini and leak “sauce” (though it was more of a toss) and potato gnocchi with a gorgonzola cream sauce.  We sat down and enjoyed a mid-morning snack while Moreno cut the vegetables and explained everything about what he was doing.

Which would’ve been a lovely class, in and of itself.  The food was absolutely amazing and Moreno is a wonderful teacher who speaks excellant English (he was a chef in Milan for seven years).  But its Moreno himself who made the day the most memorable. You see, Moreno should’ve been an entertainer.  I suppose he kind of is.  Everything he does during the class is either to instruct or amuse.  For example, he can’t just cut the skin off a tomato, he had to give the two men in the group an extra tip for when they *really* screwed up with their wives to the point where cooking dinner wasn’t enough to make it up to them: how to make a tomato peel rose.

Moreno cut the vegetables up into tiny pieces and tossed them together, telling us about Perledo, his village, while he did, answering any and all questions we had about cooking, Italy, Lake Como, his family - you name it!

I won’t give away his recipes, because that’s something you get as a bonus in the class.  The bigger bonus, though, was listening to him talk.  

On April 4, 2012, there were 82 residents of Perledo.  Eight-two.  More than 82 people live on my floor in my apartment building.

Moreno’s family had operated a bar or restaurant from this space - where Al Caminetto currently is - AND lived above it - for over 500 years.

I’m still speechless.

500 years?! My mind can’t even conceive of a private building that’s 500 years old, much less that a family had stayed in one place for so long.  It makes me realize again and again, every time I think about it, how young the US is.  Over the centuries, Moreno told us, they’d had to update the building with electricity, plumbing and other modern conveniences, but that always led to its own set of problems as the structures obviously weren’t built with these things in mind.  

Then Moreno asked us where else we had been in Italy and where we were going and I mentioned that I was headed to Verona in a few days.  ”Don’t they eat horse in Verona?”, Pam asked me.

“Yep,” I replied. “And donkey”

At which point Moreno shuddered.  ”I could never eat donkey.  It’s like eating dog to me. My brother has one, you see.”

“A dog?”

“No, a donkey”.  Yes, that’s right: his brother, who also lives in Perledo, has a donkey. “They’re such sweet creatures,” he continued. “I could never”.

I kinda want to live in a place where people have donkeys as pets.  All I know about donkeys is that I used to get really upset when they’d have them at birthday parties pretending they were “ponies” for pony-rides.  Please! My generation grew up watching My Little Pony; you can’t fool us that easily. 

But back to the cooking:

It was time to make the tagliatelle.  As I looked around for the mixing bowl Moreno poured the flour right onto the table in front of him.  He then made a “well” in the middle and began cracking eggs into it!

This didn’t seem very hygienic and I admit my salmonella-paranoid tendencies (thanks, mom) were rearing their ugly heads, particularly when Moreno then stuck his hand right in the middle of the mess and started “stirring”.  

Well, I got over my shock and have wound up trying this at home (several times).  It’s not as easy as Moreno made it look.  You gently incorporate the eggs into the flour (He’s using De Cecco Semola di grano duro rimacinata, but unfortunately this isn’t sold in the US.  I’ve tried a bunch of different things at at this point would recommend a 70/30 mix of 00 and semolina), careful to keep an edge on your “bowl” of flour till the eggs are incorporated enough not to leak through the sides.  

Once mixed, pack in airtight plastic and set aside for at least 20 minutes.  Then its time to roll!

I now have a pasta machine to help with this at home.  Getting it thin enough by hand is NOT easy, though Moreno recommended putting your thumbs on top of the rolling pin to better control the pressure on each side, otherwise you’ll wind up with one side thicker than the other.

After a lot of layers of flour and folding and cutting, you toss some more flour on top (dont’ worry - semolina comes off the surface of the pasta in the water; it won’t change the consistency) and then toss it, like so:

Moreno insisted on posing when he saw I was taking a picture so it wouldn’t be blurry :)

Next, onto the potato gnocchi.  While he was pressing the boiled potatoes through the ricer, a call came in in English so Moreno’s wife (who doesn’t speak much English) brought the phone in for him to talk while he pressed.  Moreno’s daughter also came by during the class - it was such a welcoming, family atmosphere!

Moreno and his family own a small B&B across the road that had a plumbing issue they were trying to deal with quickly, as they had someone coming to stay that day (the girl who I wound up hiking to the cemetery with, actually).  The buildings in Perledo weren’t built for modern conveniences so plumbing and electricity take a bit more care than they might otherwise.

But back to the gnocchi…

We all rolled some off a fork and then Moreno started the Gorgonzola sauce.

It was absolutely as rich as it looked. :)

All of the food we made and tried that day - from the pastas to the meats and breads that made up our “snack” - were really, really wonderful.  Perledo can be a bit difficult to get to, considering you can just walk out of your hotel in Varenna to a restaurant a few feet away, but it’s definitely worth finding your way to Il Caminetto.  Moreno’s restaurant - even in the cooking class! - provided the best meal I had during my stay on Lake Como and possibly during my entire two-week trip.  

Moreno dropped us back in Varenna around 4:15pm and I doubt any of us ate dinner that night.  There had been so much food, so much laughter and such a wonderful insight into family life on Lake Como, and all for a fraction of what I had seen cooking days cost in other cities! I wish I could’ve gone back every day.  I will *definitely* be going back the next time I’m in the Lake Como area, whether its for another cooking class (hopefully) or just a wonderful meal at Moreno’s restaurant.

Thank you, Moreno, for a wonderfully memorable day!

Recipe: Almost-Grandma’s Potato Gnocchi

I made gnocchi with my grandmother a few times growing up but as she got older she started finding ways to “cut corners”.  Her favorite? Using instant mashed potatoes instead of actual potatoes.  

I know, I know - I heard you gasp!  She also ran the dough through a cavatelli maker instead of forming the small, ridged pillows individually on the back of a fork.  No one ever complained - they were still delicious! - but I thought it was time to pull out grandma’s old cook book (which I don’t think she had looked at since she was my age) and get back to basics.

The problem was her cookbook gave a completely different recipe for potato gnocchi than the one I had gotten at Sur La Table just a few days previously.  They both called for four pounds of potatoes but grandma’s said to use one egg and a half a cup of flour whereas the Sur La Table one called for four eggs and 4 cups of flour!  I decided to start with Grandma’s and then slowly add till I got the consistency I knew I was looking for.  The first step was to cut the potatoes into about 2-3 inch chunks for boiling.  If you do this ahead of time it’s fine, just keep them submerged in cold water so their color doesn’t turn.

When you stick a knife in the potatoes and they don’t stick but instead fall off, they’re ready to drain.

Grandma’s cookbook said to mash and mix the potatoes in the pot but in practice we had always done it on a wooden cooking surface, so I took out my ricer and got to work.

If you don’t have a ricer, mashing them is fine, but don’t mash them too much! You want to keep as much air in the dough as possible to keep it “light” (well, as “light” as potato-based dough can be).  Whether you use a ricer or masher, spread the potatoes out and let them cool.  We don’t want any extra steam adding moisture as we mix.    

Sprinkle the first half cup of flour over the potatoes, beat the egg and drizzle that over as well (don’t worry about it seeping through - it all gets mixed in eventually).  Use one of those handy metal multi-use tools to fold everything together.  

I wound up using about 3 eggs and almost 3 cups of flour.  It will depend on how big your eggs are, the moisture of the potatoes, and maybe even the humidity in the air - I don’t know - but I do know that each time will be different.  You have to go by how the dough feels rather than an exact recipe.  

So how should the dough feel, you ask? It shouldn’t be sticky.  If you add too much flour you’ll wind up with heavy, tough gnocchi, so be sure to add flour and egg gradually and stop right after the dough stops sticking to your hands.  With a batch this big I started separating the dough in quarters and adding a bit of flour to each quarter till it felt right.  When it was all together the edges would feel ready but the inside of the dough was still sticky, so it was easy to manage in smaller portions.  (That’s not cheating!)

When your dough is at the right consistency roll it out into strips about as thin as a female finger. 

Use your multi-purpose metal tool (or a knife) to cut into 1/2 inch pillows.

Now this part can be a bit tricky at first.  Using light pressure, “roll” the dough off the back of a fork to create ridges that will help hold the sauce to the gnocco.  Don’t squash it! You don’t want it flat, but you may have to help it “roll”.  The important thing is the ridges, no matter what else happens.

Alternatively, Grandma’s cookbook says you can simply pinch or indent one side of each gnocco.  I wound up transitioning to this about halfway through when the “forking” was taking too long.  I simply put the tip of my finger in the center and “pulled” out to the edge to form an indentation in the center of the dumpling.  It made them look a bit like orecchiette, but once they cooked it simply provided a crevice for the sauce to be held and they still looked like gnocchi.  

As you go, toss in flour so they don’t stick together.  Grandma’s cookbook says right after you cut them, have a pan of flour handy and throw them like dice so they tumble through the flour.  This took a little too much gambling skill for me, so I just sprinkled flour on each side, tossing them around a bit.

Bring a large pot of water to a hard boil, heavily salted.  Drop them in a dozen or so at a time (careful not to let the splash burn you!) and lightly stir.  When they float and stay at the top they’re done.  Take either a slotted spoon or a “spider” (one of those fancy kitchen store tools) and take them off the top of the water and deposit either in a colander or directly in your bowl (depending on how well you drained them taking them out).

Toss in sauce, and wallah!

Light, fluffy, totally filling gnocchi, just like grandma used to make!  

Well, not my grandmother, but someone’s.

Tiziano Ferro: La Differenza Tra Me e Te

I discovered this song randomly on Amazon a few days ago when trying to look for Italian pop music to download rather than paying import prices for CDs. Surprisingly, not a lot is readily distributed in the US, and a lot of what is… well, lets just say I’m not interested in the Italian version of Bruce Springstein.  But Tiziano Ferro?  

Um, YES.

It would be fair to say I’ve become obsessed with this song the past 48 hours.  If you haven’t heard it, you’re in for a treat.  In fact, I like the entire album (download it on Amazon - it’s cheaper than downloading it on Itunes).  The deluxe version comes with seven extra songs done in SWING, alla Sinatra.  Very, very cool. (I put that version of the song at the bottom of the post)

I’ve interpreted the lyrics below.  For all of the purists out there, let me be clear: this is an interpretation, not a translation.  I didn’t attempt to translate the phrases or words, I interpreted the concepts trying to keep them as close possible to the Italian word choice while managing to sound “normal” in English. For example, you’d never hear “It’s almost a negation” in an English-language pop song, but “It almost balances out” has basically the same meaning and is much more English-lyric-friendly.  So don’t yell at me, please. :)

“La differenza tra me e te” :: Tiziano Ferro

La differenza tra me e te (The difference between me and you)

non l’ho capita fino in fondo veramente bene (I don’t really completely understand it)

Me e te (Me and you)

uno dei due sa farsi male l’altro meno però (One knows how to cause pain, the other not as much, but…)

Me e te (Me and you)

é quasi una negazione (…it almost balances out)

Io mi perdo nei dettagli e nei disordini tu no (I lose myself in the details and chaos, you don’t)

e temo il tuo passato e il mio passato ma tu no (and I fear your past and my past, but you don’t)

Me e te (Me and you)

è così chiaro che sembra difficile (It’s so clear that it seems difficult)

La mia vita mi fa perdere il sonno sempre (My life makes me lose sleep, always)

mi fa capire che è evidente (It makes me understand that its obvious…)

la differenza tra me e te (… the difference between you and me)

Poi mi chiedi come sto (Then you ask me how I am…)

e il tuo sorriso spegne i tormenti (…and your smile extinguishes the pain)

e le domande ”a stare bene”, “a stare male”, a torturarmi a chiedermi “perché” (and the questions “to feel good?”, “to feel bad?”, to torture myself asking “why”?)

La differenza tra me e te (The difference between me and you)

tu come stai? bene (How are you? good)

io come sto? boh (How am I? eh)

Me e te (Me and you)

Uno sorride di com’è, l’altro piange cosa non è (One smiles for how it is, the other cries for what it isn’t)

e penso sia un errore (and I think it’s wrong)

Io ho due, tre certezze una pinta e qualche amico (I have two, three certainties: a pint and some friends)

tu hai molte domande, alcune pessime, lo dico (You have a lot of demands, some terrible, I say…)

Me e te (Me and you)

elementare, da voler andare via (…it’s simple: from wanting to go away)

La mia vita mi fa perdere il sonno sempre (My life makes me lose sleep, always)

mi fa capire che è evidente (It makes me understand that its obvious)

la differenza tra me e te (the difference between me and you)

Poi mi chiedi come sto (Then you ask me how I am…)

e il tuo sorriso spegne i tormenti (…and your smile extinguishes all the pain)

e le domande ”a stare bene”, “a stare male”, a torturarmi a chiedermi “perché” (and the questions “to feel good?”, “to feel bad?”, to torture myself asking “why”?)

E se la mia vita ogni tanto azzerasse (And if my life could start over every now and then)

l’inutilità di queste insicurezze (the uselessness of these insecurities)

non te lo direi (I wouldn’t tell you about it)

Ma se un bel giorno affacciandomi alla vita (But if one fine day I look out at my life)

tutta la tristezza fosse già finita (all the sadness having already past)

io verrei da te (I would come to you)

Poi mi chiedi come sto (Then you ask me how I am…)

e il tuo sorriso spegne i tormenti (…and your smile extinguishes all the pain)

e le domande ”a stare bene”, “a stare male”, a torturarmi a chiedermi “perché” (and the questions “to feel good?”, “to feel bad?”, to torture myself asking “why”?)

La differenza tra me e te (The difference between me and you)

tu come stai? bene (How are you? good)

io come sto? boh (How am I? eh)

me e te (me and you)

Uno sorride di com’è, l’altro piange cosa non è (One smiles at how it is, the other cries for what it isn’t)

e penso sia bellissimo (and I think its beautiful)

penso sia bellissimo (I think its beautiful)

Italy: I’m Gonna Need A Phone

I’ve never carried a phone in Italy.  In fact, I reveled in the idea of not being reachable.  When I felt like it, I’d find wifi somewhere and jump on Skype to talk to family and friends, but there’s something very liberating about not being tied to a phone, with no one expecting to be able to get ahold of you.  I admit, it takes a few days to get used to it (I’d find myself reaching for my phone any time I heard an iphone ring), but after that it’s brings a real sense of peace.  I love it.

This year, however, I’ll be in Italy for a little over a month and its impractical for work to be unreachable for that long.  Plus, after a month I figure I’ll probably welcome more convenient means of communication with family & friends back home, and perhaps have made some friends during my travels, so a phone really does seem like a good idea.  But how to do it?

Option 1: Roaming with your US-based phone

Roaming with my US phone is not an option.  Ironically, Verizon sent out an email blast about their international rates this week: $1.29 per minute standard voice rate, $0.99 cents per minute if you buy their “value plan” for $3.99 / month, and $25 per 100 MB of data. I don’t even need to look up the other provider’s rates; I know from when we travel internationally for only a few days with clients the ginormous bills we get that month from any of the major cell phone providers (we’ve used all of them, at some point in the past few years).  Of course, when traveling with work we leave the phone on all the time and receive massive amounts of data as we check our email on the go, but still.  

Option 2: Get a European / Italian phone & SIM card

I’m only going to Italy, so I’m only looking at Italian options.  They have phones and European SIM cards that you can take from country to country, but the phone line is still based in one country or the other so you’re paying long distance to most places.  It would totally be a pain in the ass to switch phones in every country, so I get it, but fortunately that doesn’t apply to me on this trip.

Phone:

Your US phone might work in Italy.  It just has to be a GSM phone that runs on 900 / 1800 MHz and have a replaceable SIM card.  I use Verizon, and Verizon phones don’t use SIM cards so I’ll have to either borrow or buy a phone.  I found a couple on amazon and ebay that are decent smartphones for around $50.  They’re not amazing and the reviews are mediocre, but they’ll do.  If you’re an infrequent traveler and will only be abroad for a few days, companies like Cellular Abroad rent out GSM phones (though at $50 for 8-14 days, its almost worth buying one regardless, “just in case”).  

SIM Card:

You can buy an Italian SIM card in the US.  I wouldn’t, but you could.  It would lend a certain amount of comfort knowing you have it and that, if its already activated (some aren’t), you can use it as soon as you get off the plane.  It costs more this way, though, and I’m cheap, so I’ll get mine when I get there.

When you get to wherever you’re going, simply ask around or look for a store of the provider of your choice (the three main ones are discussed below).  You’ll need your passport to buy an Italian SIM card, so be sure to have it handy (of course, legally, all tourists are supposed to have their passport with them at all times).  There are stores at the airport sometimes if you need them, but as everything is at the airport I’ve heard they’re overpriced.  There are also some stores that sell cards from more than one provider, just like here in the US. 

All of the cards will come preloaded with a few euros of talk time / data on them.  To reload, simply go into a tabacaria for a “recharge” (the verb for “to recharge” in Italian is “ricaricare”, but if you take out your SIM and point to it that should be clear as well :) ).  

Side note - if you’re not going to a big city right after you’re getting on the plane, you may want to make sure there’s a store either 1) wherever it is that you’re going, 2) in the airport or 3) just suck it up and pay to get the phone ahead of time, if you’ll need it before you go to a larger town with a cellphone store. 

Calls from Home:

You may’ve already realized this, but getting an Italian SIM card means having an Italian cell phone number.  If you forward your US cell phone calls, your US cell provider will still charge international rates.  My suggestion is to leave your new number on your voicemail (assuming you want anyone to be able to reach you) and shut off your US cell phone. 

Here’s the great thing about having an Italian cell phone: ALL INCOMING CALLS ARE FREE!  So that means you can call home: “Hey mom, call me back”.  And when she calls you back, it’s free!

Well, its free for YOU… your poor mom is calling Italy!  So how to help friends & family back home be able to actually afford calling you?  Set up a Skype number.

SkypeIn Numbers:

If you don’t have a Skype account, create one.  It’s free.  Once you have one, go to “My Skype Account Overview” and then “Buy an online number”.  When you pick a country, make sure you pick the country where your friends & family are, because Skype will generate a phone number for whatever country you select.  You’ll get to pick from a list of numbers in your requested area code.

Now, once you have your Italian cell phone, you’ll want to set up Skype Call Forwarding.  You’ll need to buy Skype Credit to have your calls forwarded, which you can do from your Account page.  Forward your Skype number to your Italian cell phone and wallah!  Friends and family call your US (Skype) number and you can answer on your Italian cell phone.  The reason you need Skype Credit is that it WILL charge you 2.3 cents per minute (the US Skype rate to call Italy) to forward your calls to an Italian number, but that’s - quite literally - pennies.  You’ll save quarters and dimes and nickels this way :)

OK, so how to pick an Italian cell phone provider… From what I understand, there are three primary service providers: Vodafone, TIM and Wind.  They seem to have comprable service (if anyone knows differently, please let me know!) and somewhat comprable costs.  I’ve listed out some of the current rate plans below, but just like in the US these are known to change, go on promotion, come off promotion, etc, so be sure to check out the websites… if you care that much.

The Providers:

Vodaphone: http://eshop.vodafone.it/ricaricabili.html

15 centesimi a minute to the U.S. with a 16 centesimi connection fee

250 minutes (international OR domestic): 9,90 euro per month (in promo)

250 mb data: 3 euro per week

“Vodafone12” plan: 12 centesimi per minute to Italy, 12 centesimi per SMS, 18 centesimi connection fee

“Smart 350” plan: 350 voice minutes, 350 SMS, 1 gb data for 9,90 euro per month (in promo)

“All-In” Plan: Unlimited voice minutes & SMS, 1 gb data for 11,90 euro (in promo)

TIM: http://www.tim.it/tariffe/ricaricabile

About 50 centesimi per minute to the US, 30 centesimi per SMS per 160 characters

300 mb data per week = 3 euro per week

1 gb data per month = 10 euro per month

500 mb of 4G data per week = 6 euro per week (note: 4G coverage is extremely limited)

90 voice minutes per week = 3 euro per week

250 voice minutes per week = 6 euro per week

100 voice minutes, 100 SMS, 250 mb data = 5 euro per week

250 voice minutes, 250 SMS, 500 mb data = 8 euro per week

“Tim12” = 12 centesimi per minute domestic, 15 centesimi per SMS, 18 centesimi connection fee

“TimZeroScatti” = 20 centesimi per voice minute, 13 centesimi per SMS, no connection fee

Wind: http://www.wind.it/it/privati/ricaricabile

20 centesimi per voice minute to the U.S.

400 voice minutes + 400 SMS + 1 gb data per month = 10 euro per month

1000 voice minutes + 1000 SMS + 1 gb data per month = 19 euro per month

Unlimited voice minutes + Unlimited SMS + 1 gb data per month = 19 euro (in promo)

You can increase your data to 2gb in any of these plans (instead of 1 gb) for an extra 2,50 euro per month by adding on “Internet No-Stop”.  OR you can make it 10 gb per month for an extra 12 euro with the “MegaUnlimited” add-on. 

Whew, ok, I know the plans are still confusing (I know *my* mind is buzzing), but at the end of the day I’m not sure you can really go wrong with any of them.  Just look at your current usage, try to figure out what you’ll be using in Italy, and pick a plan from any of the providers that seems like the best match.  Then make sure there’s a retailer wherever you’re going :)  Worse case scenario: you pay a few more euro than you needed to.  A few euro this way or that isn’t worth the stress agonizing about it!  Hopefully this will help you put your plan together; I think I have mine!

Italy Around the World: Los Angeles’s Lost Little Italy

     Last fall a friend and I bought tickets through a daily deal site to attend “Taste of Italy”, an annual festival celebrating Italian food, entertainment and culture that’s held in the plaza outside of Pico House in downtown Los Angeles, now known as a historically Mexican area of LA. We arrived just before sunset and through the temporarily-erected vinyl walls we could hear that the evening’s events were already under way.  I felt like I was standing in line for the circus, anxious as a child to discover what wonders awaited us inside.  A sign out front stated that the event was benefitting “IAMLA”.  I was immediately attracted to the acronym – broad yet personal all at once – but at the time I had no idea what it was.   I would soon find out.

     We walked through the entrance, collected our food and drink tickets and began taking in the scene: all shapes & sizes milling about, some clearly flaunting their Italian heritage and some who were more likely to eat sauerkraut on New Year’s than lentils.  Most were as casually dressed as we were, but some very easily could’ve been headed for a ball, decked in sequins and a full can of Acquanet. The plaza was full of robust aromas and as the sun set a soft breeze swept in, adding a comfortable chill.  We strolled through the booths of food and wine, laughter spontaneously erupting first in one place then another, people calling out to friends in English or Italian across the cobbled courtyard and hands flying through the air in excited conversation as an old friend – or new – was discovered in the crowd.  Restaurant booths were plating up everything from the expected sausage & peppers and penne Bolognese to a completely unexpected beet salad and a (delicious) vegan chickpea concoction.  

     In the midst of all the food I spotted a booth for “IAMLA”. Intrigued as to what organization could claim to identify with the very core of what makes one “LA”, I walked over and perused the leaflets on the table, each proudly proclaiming “IAMLA: the ItalianAmerican Museum of Los Angeles”.  Wait, really?   Isn’t that a bit, oh, I don’t know… self-centered of them, using such a far-reaching acronym to represent the story of one set of immigrants?  Particularly a set of immigrants that most people don’t even know settled in LA!  I’ve often mourned the lack of a “Little Italy” since moving here.  They’re always such fun neighborhoods in northeastern cities with a lively energy, quality restaurants and food stores, engaging festivals and community events.  We don’t have anything like that.  So how can the Italian America Museum stand up and say “IAMLA”?

     A conversation with Marianna Gatto, Los Angeles historian and director of the Italian American Museum of Los Angeles, put it all in perspective.   I stopped by IAMLA’s offices laden with an excess of my grandmother’s recipe pizzelles, which I had made the week before and had to get out of my apartment before I ate them ALL.  I took them up on the faux-wood-paneled elevator to the fourth floor, through the bare corridor and into IAMLA’s very basic offices, the kind you always hope belong to a foundation (IAMLA is a project of the Historic Italian Hall Foundation, a 501(c)3; all IAMLA memberships and contributions are tax-deductible as  charitable donation).  I had done some research on Marianna and IAMLA before I went to their offices but even if I hadn’t I wouldn’t’ve been surprised by the woman who greeted me, except perhaps that she seems a little young to have developed such a notable resume.  Marianna’s big, black curls help to put her at about 5’7” in heels with proud features and a wide smile.  Her cream and black skirt suit was pristine and well-tailored, making me feel a bit underdressed in jeans, flats and a black leather jacket.  She graciously accepted the cookies (probably wondering if I bring baked goods to all of my interviews), sat down behind a large desk in her sparsely decorated corner office overlooking the square and started telling me the story behind IAMLA – and Italians – in Los Angeles.  

     The very place where we sat used to be in the middle of LA’s Little Italy.  It was a bit hard to believe, when outside tourists were taking pictures with a giant stuffed donkey wearing a sombrero, but some vestiges can still be found in the area if you pay attention: think Eastside Market, St. Peter’s Italian Church, Columbus Pharmacy, San Antonio Winery and the Italian Hall itself, now on the National Register of Historic Places and undergoing a multi-million dollar renovation with the support of the Historic Italian Hall Foundation.  

     So here’s the ish: In 1827 Giovanni Leandri, a sailor by trade, became the first Italian immigrant (that we know of) to settle in Los Angeles.  On the east coast Italians were often times faced with quite a bit of discrimination, which is why they formed such condensed, united communities (“Little Italys”). I remember my Italian grandmother telling me that her parents were careful not to speak Italian around the kids because they wanted them to “Americanize”.  When she was growing up in Ohio, to be Italian meant that you were thought of as “poor” and “slow”.   My grandfather was told he had to change his last name from “Capuano” to something “more American” if he wanted to be promoted at the cement factory where he was working (In what I believe is an incredibly brave and selfless act, he changed the family name to “Capp” in the 1950’s.  When he retired he was the president of three different cement plants and had traveled around the world with his wife on business, a far cry from the young boy who grew up in an abandoned train car, and the fulfillment of his immigrant parents’ American dream – with that one, poignant twist).  

     In Los Angeles, however, an area predominantly settled by Latin immigrants when Leandri arrived, Italians received a warm reception.  “They were connected by a common Latin culture,” Marianna said.  

     Huh? I was confused. “Italian culture is…Latin?” I queried, more than a bit doubtful and trying not to rudely show it.

     Marianna stumbled for a second, looking as if no one had ever questioned her on that before.  And then, with a few simple yet profound words, I realized why: “The original Latins were… Roman!”  I had to pick my chin up off the floor.  Perhaps I’m alone in this, but that had never occurred to me.  “The cultures we now consider ‘Latin’,” she continued, “while certainly unique share many common foundations, linguistically, philosophically….”.  And so they do: Catholicism, for one; a strong, sometimes large – and often loud – family base, a similar energy to traditional music and the practice of celebrating (anything) frequently in engaging community events.   Thus when Italians began settling in Los Angeles, Marianna explained – and many of them came through Central and South America to get here – they found enough similarities in culture with the Latin immigrants already in the area that the two were able to coexist and intermingle quite easily.  

     Italian immigrants didn’t just find acceptance in Los Angeles, they excelled.  Around 1890, at the same time that eleven Italian Americans were lynched in New Orleans in largest mass-lynching recorded on American soil, Frank Sabichi was becoming President of the Los Angeles City Council.  Thanks to the knowledge of winemaking that came with Italian immigrants, Los Angeles was the “wine capitol of California” by 1869 producing tens of thousands of gallons of wine annually, Marianna claims, with Italian immigrants like Antonio Pelanconi and Secondo Guasti learning the trade from its masters and continuing its traditions for all of us to enjoy. By the 1920’s, she continues, the Italian Americans in Los Angeles were the most affluent and upwardly mobile Italian immigrant group in the US, with Amerigo Bozzanni helping to build California’s first state freeway as California Highway Commissioner.

     So where’d everyone go?  Nowhere, according to the IAMLA’s official website (www.ItalianHall.org).  The site claims that Los Angeles has the fifth largest Italian American population in the US today.  But as Italian Americans became wealthier and as the city’s demographics changed, many moved their (large) families out of Little Italy to Los Angeles suburbs where they became the neighborhood mechanic, accountant or physician.  Some headed toward California’s ample valleys to open wineries and farms, and some went West toward the coast to start fisheries (San Pedro still has the largest population of Italian Americans in Southern California). Little Italy soon started to be taken over by Chinatown and most evidence of what used to be an Italian cultural center disappeared.  In 1953, when the State of California incorporated the area around the Italian Hall as “El Pueblo State Historic Park”, the Italian American community ceased utilizing the building for community gatherings and LA’s close-knit Italian neighborhood seemed to breathe its last breath.

     But then, in the early 1990’s, a threat of commercial development triggered the Los Angeles community to take action.  A group of concerned citizens banded together to form the Historic Italian Hall Foundation, breathing new life into LA’s hibernating Italian American community and inspiring many within LA and beyond to reconnect with Los Angeles’s incredible immigrant story.  The Historic Italian Hall Foundation began raising money to restore the building to its original glory and soon started developing plans for a museum, plans that are now very close to being realized. 

     It’s been a long road for the Italian American Museum, but hearing Marianna’s clear and inclusive vision of the property is inspiring and sheds light on the “IAMLA” acronym.  “This is not going to be an ‘Italian Pride Museum’”, she says. “We want to create an environment that showcases LA’s diverse origins and can engage visitors of all ages and backgrounds.” The acronym, then, is not meant as a statement to claim that it was Italian Americans who created and were (are) the core of Los Angeles, but instead it is a proclamation of which story the museum aims to tell. “You can’t learn about Italians in Los Angeles without learning about the history of the region itself;” Marianna continues, “The story of Italian immigrants in LA is one everyone can relate to; it’s the story of the American Dream.”

     The Italian Hall is currently being tediously restored to its original early 20th century glory with some notable exceptions – like the entranceway, which had already been remodeled in the 1960’s and so will now take on a sleek, modern look.  Once the museum opens in early 2014 it will employ state-of-the-art motion activated interactive glass panels in its permanent exhibitions (Marianna’s description made me think of the mall in “Minority Report”).  These panels will allow the Museum to constantly and easily update information and feature dynamic changing exhibits for the 2 million visitors the site receives each year.   

     In addition to showcasing the photos, documents and histories acquired by the Museum over the years, providing an ancestry database and being a resource for those wishing to learn about the region’s diverse history, one of the biggest goals of IAMLA is to reestablish the Italian Hall as a community center. “Culture doesn’t thrive if you try to preserve it in a Petri dish,” Marianna says as she begins to describe the wide variety of activities they have planned. “As we develop programming we are making sure it is relevant to Los Angeles’s diverse, changing community and truly serves its needs.” They’ll continue Taste of Italy, of course, but Marianna says they have a whole array of events in the works – from language classes and history conferences to wine and cooking courses to film screenings and live music events.  They’ll also offer programs that address community issues, from hunger to job training internships and, above all, educational programming for the 300,000 youths who visit the site each year.  “The tradition of gathering in the central ‘piazza’ is elusive in this day and age,” Marianna says after recounting, with obvious emotion in her voice, how an elderly citizen approached her after last year’s Taste of Italy with tears in her eyes, thanking Marianna and the IAMLA for “bringing her back to her youth” with an evening of food, music and a strong sense of community.  “That’s one of our most important goals: finding ways to recreate that feeling, to create a sense of shared identity and community.”

     I, for one, am pretty darn excited about all of the proposed offerings from the IAMLA, and can’t wait till it opens.  There are several ways to help support the IAMLA, all listed on the museum’s official website (www.ItalianHall.org), and some of them are as simple as doing your online shopping from over 1200 of the typical retail sites (like Amazon.com, Orbitz.com, BedBathAndBeyond.com) through a portal at IGive.com, who will then donate a portion of your purchase price to the Museum.  Memberships to the IAMLA are also available in many different forms, and all include exclusive discounts to dozens of local restaurants and retailers and notification of private events and member priority access.  You can also choose to volunteer at the IAMLA and donate photos or documents to the museum’s steadily growing collection.

     This year has seen the launch of “The Year of Italian Culture 2013” by the Italian Foreign Affairs office (shocker, I know – I want to randomly proclaim a year of something!).  And somehow, after talking to Marianna and starting to look forward to the pasta-making classes, wine tastings, healthy living seminars, art & music shows and pizza throwing competitions (ok, I made that one up, but it could be fun!), I think this just actually might truly be the year of Italian culture in Los Angeles, thanks to the efforts of the Historic Italian Hall Foundation and the IAMLA. “With the Renaissance taking place downtown,” Marianna concludes, “Los Angeles seems to be reflective, taking pride in a maturing Angeleno identity.  The IAMLA is excited to be part of that and we look forward to contributing more extensively to that synergy and exploration in the years to come.  I think LA is ready for us.”   

     I know I am.

Piazza Navona: Sant’Agnes in Agone

Anyone familiar with Piazza Navona, one of historic Rome’s central squares, is familiar with Sant’Agnese in Agone, the church that dominates the Western side of the square in front of infamous Bernini’s “Four Rivers” fountain.

I entered the church not knowing the story of St. Agnes, so the first thing that struck me was the color palette.  

Pink and white marble dominate the walls, keeping everything light.  No dark Carvaggio-esque paintings here! White marble wall engravings are the only artwork, helping to reflect the light.  Only when you look up, up, up do you find any paintings, and these still maintain the brightness of the lower half of the church, primarily utilizing soft blues and pinks.

Windows around the base of the dome let in the majority of the light, and the dome itself made me do a double take!  The painting inside the dome works as an optical illusion, making your eyes think it goes higher up than it does, extending towards heaven. The very very top of the dome ends in a window, as well, giving more light to this bright, comforting church.

Basically, it’s a young girl’s church.

And it actually is - St. Anges was around, as far as we can tell, 12 or 13 years old when she was martyred right on this very spot somewhere around 303-304AD.  How do they know that, you ask? Simple: scientists have analyzed HER SKULL, which just happens to be IN THE NEXT ROOM.

Can’t see it?  Let me help you zoom in…

Why its smaller than the head of a Cabbage Patch Kid, I have no idea.  All I know is that I was completely creeped out.  Before traveling to Italy on this first trip, I had no idea that skulls, bones and hair of saints were actually *displayed* in churches.  I repeat: it creeped me out!

But on to the story, which I love, as I’ve always loved stories of strong women and strong young women, especially as a child.  

It all started, of course, with a boy.  The son of a Prefect of Rome, to be exact, who became infatuated with young Agnes. Living up to her name (in Greek Agnes meas “pure, chaste”), Agnes rejected his advances proclaiming her chastity represented her devotion to God.  The spoiled son didn’t take this very well.  To punish Agnes for rejecting him, he had her put on “display”, naked, in the Circus Agonale (present day Piazza Navona), where the prostitues paraded to sell their services.  

This is when her miracles began.  To cover her nakedness and save her modesty, her hair grew in long locks, protecting her from public eyes.  This didn’t keep a man from wanting to buy her, though, and when he died before he had the chance Agnes was accused of being a witch.  To prove her innocence - you already know how well that worked out for her - she said that an angel in white was protecting her.  To convince everyone of this she brought the man back to life with a prayer to said angel.  Probably not the best way to prove you’re not a witch…

…the Romans didn’t think so, either.  They threw her onto a fire to burn her alive, but the flames miraculously went out, saving her.  They finally decided to take a more direct approach and pierced her neck with a sword as they would a lamb being slaughtered.  This is why St. Agnes always appears in artwork with a lamb in her arms or at her feet.  

St. Agnes “in Agone” is not “in agony” - “in Agone” was the name of Piazza Navona at the time (“Piazza in Agone”).  ”in Agone” meant “in sight of the competitions”, and Piazza Navona was built in the style of the ancient Greeks, with one flat end, to be used for footraces.  In 342AD Constantina, daughter of the Emperor Constantine, built a basilica in honor of St. Agnes on Via Nomentana above in the crypt in which the young girl was buried called “Sant’Agnes Fuori Le Mure” (St. Agnes Outside the Walls).  So when this church was built in 1652, intended as a private chapel connected to the adjacent palace of the family of Pope Innocent X (yeah, I know…), it was given the name “Sant’Agnes in Agone” to be distinguished by its location.  The fact that it was meant to be a private chapel does explain why its so much smaller than other churches in Rome, but every bit as grand.

It’s one of my favorites, particularly for the story.  There are, of course, points of contention to exactly what happened to Agnes and who she was, but the story I’ve related is the one told by the church, and I like it :)

Click for the Official Site of Sant’Agnes in Agone