The Land of Giants

My husband and I took my younger son, G, to the local amusement park this week. We would have taken my older son, too, but at age 14 he is way too cool to be caught dead outside of the house with his parents. So just the three of us headed out to Miragica, which claims to be "the land of giants." Didn't see any giants or anything even very large there (besides the rides), but I guess these places need a theme.

I love all the crazy rides and willingly stood in long, hot lines for 30 seconds of wild hysteria.

Long, hot and SWEATY lines . . .

Around and around, up and down

No ride is too crazy for me, I'm up for it all.

Even the ones G was terrified to try - like the Tower

 - 47 meters straight up and 47 meters free fall, whoo hoo! We went this one alone.

We also caught 3 shows over 2 days. You see, if you pay for one day, the second day is free. What that means, is that whether you are up to it or not, you feel obliged to go again the next day. Because you already paid for it, right?

The shows were worth it, though. Russian dancers, acrobats and contortionists . . . pretty heady stuff for this small provincial city!

She was good!

By the end of the second day, all I could handle was a gentle ride on the merry-go-round. 

While, in the meantime, G had overcome his fear of the scary rides and decided to ride the roller-coaster as many times in a row as physically possible. I think he did it six times! I did go with him the first two times, but lost my appetite for it after the second go when my hair got stuck in the safety bar and I couldn't get off the ride at the end. The ride operators extracted my locks and said it happens all the time.

What will I do when G is too cool to go with his parents to the amusement park? I'll have to borrow some little kids from someone for an excuse to go!

Joe Valeriano

My husband and I had a date night!

Wow!

That's really a big deal around here. More so than it would be in the States. I can't speak for all of Italy, but in our town, babysitters do not want to work in the evening. They want to go out and have fun themselves! They will work in the morning or the afternoon, but the evening is sacrosanct . . . they are quite put out if you even ask.

When my oldest son was little, I had hired a babysitter so that I could return to work parttime. I also asked her to come for two hours each Thursday night so that my husband and I could go to the movies once a week. She was shocked that I would have the nerve to ask her such a thing. She said to me, "I go out in the evenings. I'm young. You wouldn't understand!"

Thanks.

Seemed strange to me. I mean, it was just one night a week. She could go out with her friends the other six nights. And . . . I was going to PAY her, not a minor detail in my way of thinking. 

Oh, well . . . that's the kind of subtle cultural difference that would just never cross your mind to even imagine. I just assumed that babysitters would work evenings. She just assumed that I would never even think to make her such an indecent proposal. Expectation Clash!

My sons are older now and we feel comfortable leaving them alone for a couple of hours every so often, so last night we grabbed the chance to hear Joe Valeriano live in concert right here in our town.

Joe Valeriano is one of the top blues guitarists in Italy and Europe. And he's an old high school friend of my husband's. Last night he played with a local blues band, led by another school pal of theirs who is not famous at all. He was truly amazing on the guitar. He didn't just strum it, but had all kinds of amazing techniques on the strings. He even punched them sometimes!

Forgive me the lousy iphone photo...

All of my husband's high school classmates were there, cheering on their old friends, both the famous one and the unknown one. 

Finally, a night out on the town for mom and dad, yeah!

Born to Be Wild

After the Men at Play road trip with my younger son, it was only fair that my husband head out on the highway with my older son for their own unique motorcycle adventure. Accompanied by my son's friend and his father they left the sea behind and head for the hills.

The Pollino is a mountainous national park in the Basilicata region. It offers breathtaking views of natural beauty and great wide-open winding roads through it all, ideal for the traveler on two wheels. 

Along the way, they stopped to go for a swim in a man-made lake. It's actually a reservoir, but this is Italy, after all . . . no one told them they couldn't swim there.

So they did.

Notice the ever-present soccer ball.

They stopped off to visit Craco, a medieval hilltop ghost town. It was abandoned in a slow process over decades in part because many residents emigrated in the search for a better life and, more recently, because of earthquake damage.

There are no photos to prove it, but the guys claim they went whitewater rafting, guided by a national level rafting champion. Apparently, the guide was a lot of fun and took evil pleasure in splashing my husband mercilessly. He, of course, took revenge and so amid the splashing and laughing they all had a good time.

Mediterraneo: Way of Life

My brother-in-law, Gaetano Grillo, is a painter and a sculptor. He is also a professor at the Brera Academy of Fine Arts in Milan.

His work focuses on what he calls Mediterraneanism, or the essence of being Mediterranean. That includes not only the colors and the particular light of this area, but also the historical and ongoing comingling of languages, alphabets and cultures.

He currently has a personal exhibit of paintings and ceramics here in our city. We inaugurated the exhibit last Friday and it will be running through the end of the month, so if you happen to be in the neighborhood of Molfetta, feel free to drop on by.

If you can't make it in person, you can always take a peek at more of his work at his website. For now, it's all in Italian. I have translated the whole thing, but no one has gotten around to actually adding the English version to the site. When that happens, I'll give you that link again.

The Panini Sandwich

"Panini," in Italian, means "sandwiches." Plural form. More than one. 

Imagine how tickled I was when my mother told me she had seen menus in the US offering a: 

"Panini Sandwich"! 

A sandwiches sandwich? My favorite kind!

My husband bought three long baguettes at the bakery 

- yes, we bought French bread in Italy, we are just SO international, aren't we? - 

and decided to make sandwiches for himself and the boys.

Let's see, what do we have in the refridgerator? 

A few tomatoes, a little mayo, a layer of ham . . .

Add on some sliced provolone . . .

Some more mayo and a few pickles for a finishing touch . . .

. . . and, presto, lunch is served!

After the Rain

Yesterday it rained and rained all day. It was actually a nice chance to cool down. 

A break from days on end of suffocating heat and blazing sun.

In the late afternoon the sun suddenly came out.

The perfect time to go for a swim in the sea. 

At sunset, after a rainy day . . .  you are guaranteed to have the beach all to yourself.

A moment for true connoisseurs.

And connoisseurs in training . . .

Men at Play, 2

Day Two of my husband and younger son's road trip started bright and early, after a violently windy night during which they didn't get much sleep for fear that the tent was going to blow away - with them in it!

Is it safe to come out now?

But things started looking a lot brighter after their morning consitutional . . . and a big cappucino and cream-filled cornetto at the bar. Italian campgrounds are fully equipped set-ups with coffee bars, mini-markets, deluxe (ha!) exercise centers like the one below, restaurants, you name it.

One, two, one, two . . .

On to the serious business of the day . . . beach time! 

Getting up early has its benefits, you get the whole beach to yourself.

These stones are mine, all mine!

This beach is called Baia delle Zagare, or Orange Blossom Bay. What looks like sand is actually millions of small, smooth pebbles that lie from the sea's crystal clear waters all the way up to the sheer white cliffs that border the beach.

This paradise is located at Vignanotica, on the Gargano peninsula.

G. spent all his time face down in the water, snorkling around for hours on end. He tells me he was looking at the pebbles, but when I asked him if he saw any fish he replied indifferently, "oh yeah, there were tons of fish." Fish - how dull. Rocks - thrilling! I've obviously got my priorities all wrong . . .

All in all, two idyllic days that won't soon be forgotten.

Men at Play

My husband and younger son just got back from a two-day father and son adventure. They took off yesterday morning on the motorcycle for a trip to the Gargano peninsula - the spur on the heel of the Italian boot.

Ready to roll!

First stop was in the small town of Zaponeta for "the best focaccia in the world," according to G.

Yum!

Then a detour to the waterpark . . . G forgot his bathing suit at home. Good thing they're both guys and somebody brought an extra suit!

A stopover at Caseificio dei Pini, where they make mozzarella from buffalo milk, is an absolute must.

A man and his motorcycle

 Then finally, arrival at destination and a well-deserved dip in the sea.

See you back here tomorrow for photos of the gorgeous beach scenery and the rather less than gorgeous campsite.

Please don't Sneeze

The fuzzy sneezy family

This week I had the honor of being interviewed on Samantha B: Living Allergy Free, a blog for and about people who live with various allergies. In the interview I talk about both my own allergies and those of my younger son, and the effect they have on our lives.

Samantha B: Where are you from, who in your family has allergies, how old are they, and what are they allergic to?

Saretta: Hi, my name is Saretta! I'm an American living in Italy with my Italian husband and two very Italian sons. I am the only one with “official” allergies in this family. I'm allergic to dust, olive tree flowers, feathers, cypress trees, wild grasses . . . and just about any other pollen that might float by! Besides that I am both gluten and lactose intolerant, which means I can have no contact with wheat or dairy products.

My younger son, age 11, has atopic dermatitis, a form of eczema that has been linked to food allergies. He has tested sensitive to mollusks, peaches and apricots, and hazelnuts and walnuts, but luckily does not risk a violent allergic reaction.

To read more, hop on over to Samantha B: Living Peanut Free.

Hope you have a fun and allergy-free Sunday!

Dinner is Served

This morning on the radio the dj was talking about a survey that claims Italians no longer sit down to a full multiple course meal daily. Is this possible? Are we talking about Italy?

The basic traditional meal is typically at least this:

1. First course (pasta, rice or soup)

2. Second course (meat or cheese)

3. Side dish (salad, cooked or raw vegetables)

On special occasions (like Sunday lunch, a birthday or a holiday) you would add an appetizer, possibly a cheese course, fruit and dessert. Here in Puglia you wouldn't want to forget to start off the whole meal with a course of locally fished raw mollusks: mussels, oysters, clams, limpets, etc.

I am surprised to hear that this tradition is fading away and have to wonder where the people who were surveyed live. Not in Puglia, not in the Puglia I know, anyway. Here, eating is a tradition, the number one way of socializing, and almost a competitive sport. Yes, competitive.

The women, but not only, lots of men I know love to cook, try to outdo each other with their version of traditional recipes. When eating with friends, more is always better. People bring so much food that you would think a small army was being provisioned. And yet, somehow, at the end of lunch, it's always all gone...

People who don't eat everything, like me, are viewed with suspicion. What do you mean you don't want any more? What? You didn't like it? What do you mean you're full? There's always room for more. Even the quantity of consumption becomes competitive.

My husband and sons and I eat lunch together every day. Lunch for us is of the basic three course variety: first course, second course and side dish. If one of these elements is missing, my older son in particular gets rather upset...well, he is a growing 14 year old. He has a fair excuse. 

All the people I know eat this way. Together, sitting down at the table, set with a tablecloth. Seems like a pity to lose such a pleasant tradition.

Father's Day Interview

Today is not Father's Day in Italy either. They celebrate fathers on March 19, which is Saint Joseph's feast day. This is a Catholic country, you know, so Joseph is considered the First Father, if you will. At least the first long-suffering father with paternity issues...but let's leave religion out of this, shall we?

In any case, I hoped to celebrate by interviewing my husband, the resident father here amid the olive trees, about his life and then sharing that with you. Unfortunately, he is busy working on a project over there in the corner on his computer (as usual) and not really that interested in answering my nosy questions. Poor guy, never a moment of peace and quiet!

Here's what I managed to drag out of him . . .

1. What is your full name?
Francesco Gerardo

2. Why did your parents select this name for you?
Francesco was the name of my maternal grandfather. Gerardo comes from Saint Gerardo, who my mother had prayed to during her pregnancy with me.

He's the little guy on the left

3. Did you have a nickname? 
My friends and family called me Ciccio.


4. When and where were you born?
I was born on the kitchen table in my family home in southern Italy. That's the way things were done back then.

5. What is your earliest childhood memory? 
I remember receiving a gold watch from my Uncle Rino at my first communion. I was 8 years old and that watch was a special treasure.

6. What kind of games did you play growing up?
My family had a large farm in the countryside and I played outside all the time with my brothers and sisters and cousins. We had slingshots we used to kill lizards. We set up a stand by the side of the road and sold farm vegetables, peeled almonds and mint flavored ices to passersby.

With his cousins in the countryside (3rd from left)

7. What was your favorite thing to do for fun? 
We had a black and white TV and I loved to lie on my stomach and watch films on summer mornings.

8. Did you have family chores?
Yes, my brothers and sisters and I always helped my mother in the house and with chores on the farm. I remember all of us sitting around a large table shelling almonds. My father would pay us 10 liras for each bag of peeled almonds and we kids always tried to steal each other's almonds to make more money. We were also paid for helping gather the olives and other chores like that.

9. What was school like for you as a child?
In elementary school the classes were divided into either all-boy or all girl sections. I shared a desk with Giovanni, who is still a good friend of mine.

10. What were your best and worst subjects? 
I liked math the best, but the other subjects were okay, too.

11. What was fashion like back then?
I was a very fussy dresser, differently from now! I spent a lot of time and care in choosing my outfit each day and if I got the least little bit dirty I would go home and change my clothes. I wore very large eyeglasses that look rather strange to me now.

That's all I could get out of him for now, but I am persistent, so there may be more installments to the Francesco story!