Francesca and Chiara were coming from their home in Pordenone on the mainland for dinner tonight. They usually get together on weekends, but this was for me to be able to visit with them. We were going to make a big Sunday dinner on a Wednesday with classic Venetian dishes: zuppa di pesce (seafood stew), seppia al nero (cuttlefish and its ink over tagliatelle noodles), and moleche col pien (fried softshell crabs). Oh my goodness this is going to be amazing.
moleche - this kind of softshell crab is found only in the Venetian lagoon. They are a little larger than a Kennedy half dollar.
Little fishies, gonna eat you up.
Pesce, e gamberetti, e ghozziti, oh my!
I don't know this fish in particular, but it sure is pretty.
I bought the makings for some soup for lunch and a caprese salad to munch on while we prepared everything for dinner. Once back at the house I started the pot for my squash soup (she fell in love with it the last time I was there) and we eased into a comfortable rhythm of chopping, measuring (with pinches and handfuls only- none of this stuff is on recipe cards, until I write it out for myself anyway) and tasting the goods along the way.
The lord of the manor woke up at 1pm and we sent him to go find a dessert of some kind for that evening. Francesca and Chiara arrived at 6 and we ate around 7. Normally they wouldn’t eat until 8 or 9, but we took into consideration their drive back and Francesca working in the morning. Plus Marco had to leave to work overnight again at 10. Chiara has graduated from high school - where does the time go? - and is taking a year off before deciding on university or a trade school. It was so good to see the whole family together and much too short-lived. We cleaned up and all said goodnight to Mamma; Franecsca and Chiara took the boat one direction to the train station and Marco & I toward San Marco. Arriving at the hotel, he took the employee entrance to get changed and get started, I made my way to the bar to see Aldo and Serena.
There were two American men in the corner at a table and I recognized the younger of them eventually. It was Mark Spitz, the swimmer, and his father. I make it a rule never to approach famous people; I don’t want to be a bother when they are obviously just trying to have a vacation as well. The next time he came up to the bar to order something I waited for him to acknowledge me and I gushed a little - which is a big deal for me. “Mr Spitz, I just want to tell you that you are one of the reasons I got into competitive swimming as a kid. I even had a competition suit in the same fabric as yours, the dark blue with the US flag in the stars.” Annnd I felt like such a dork! He was very gracious (he still has that great smile) and shook my hand. He introduced me to his father as well. At this point the woman sitting next to me spoke up and introduced herself as well. She spoke in an Australian accent and mentioned what a legend he is still considered in Australia and how important he was to inspiring the generations for their swim programs as well. He thanked us both and after a moment more of smalltalk he went back to his table.
I stayed for another hour talking with the Australian, Kathleen. She has a pretty fascinating job as a logistics manager at the UN compound in Chad. It’s not a place I’d want to go from the sounds of it - if she leaves the compound she has to go with a driver and two bodyguards, just because she‘s female. It’s scorching hot constantly - currently 50 Centigrade, which is at least 30 degrees to warm for me. But she makes really good money from it at least.
I bid everyone goodnight, went up front to the reception area and worked on the hotel’s computer (a great perk for knowing the concierge.) I loaded some pictures to the blogsite. This will hopefully cut down on time when I go to publish the next time. Onward, home and to bed.
Pesce, e gamberetti, e ghozziti, oh my!
I don't know this fish in particular, but it sure is pretty.
I bought the makings for some soup for lunch and a caprese salad to munch on while we prepared everything for dinner. Once back at the house I started the pot for my squash soup (she fell in love with it the last time I was there) and we eased into a comfortable rhythm of chopping, measuring (with pinches and handfuls only- none of this stuff is on recipe cards, until I write it out for myself anyway) and tasting the goods along the way.
The lord of the manor woke up at 1pm and we sent him to go find a dessert of some kind for that evening. Francesca and Chiara arrived at 6 and we ate around 7. Normally they wouldn’t eat until 8 or 9, but we took into consideration their drive back and Francesca working in the morning. Plus Marco had to leave to work overnight again at 10. Chiara has graduated from high school - where does the time go? - and is taking a year off before deciding on university or a trade school. It was so good to see the whole family together and much too short-lived. We cleaned up and all said goodnight to Mamma; Franecsca and Chiara took the boat one direction to the train station and Marco & I toward San Marco. Arriving at the hotel, he took the employee entrance to get changed and get started, I made my way to the bar to see Aldo and Serena.
There were two American men in the corner at a table and I recognized the younger of them eventually. It was Mark Spitz, the swimmer, and his father. I make it a rule never to approach famous people; I don’t want to be a bother when they are obviously just trying to have a vacation as well. The next time he came up to the bar to order something I waited for him to acknowledge me and I gushed a little - which is a big deal for me. “Mr Spitz, I just want to tell you that you are one of the reasons I got into competitive swimming as a kid. I even had a competition suit in the same fabric as yours, the dark blue with the US flag in the stars.” Annnd I felt like such a dork! He was very gracious (he still has that great smile) and shook my hand. He introduced me to his father as well. At this point the woman sitting next to me spoke up and introduced herself as well. She spoke in an Australian accent and mentioned what a legend he is still considered in Australia and how important he was to inspiring the generations for their swim programs as well. He thanked us both and after a moment more of smalltalk he went back to his table.
I stayed for another hour talking with the Australian, Kathleen. She has a pretty fascinating job as a logistics manager at the UN compound in Chad. It’s not a place I’d want to go from the sounds of it - if she leaves the compound she has to go with a driver and two bodyguards, just because she‘s female. It’s scorching hot constantly - currently 50 Centigrade, which is at least 30 degrees to warm for me. But she makes really good money from it at least.
I bid everyone goodnight, went up front to the reception area and worked on the hotel’s computer (a great perk for knowing the concierge.) I loaded some pictures to the blogsite. This will hopefully cut down on time when I go to publish the next time. Onward, home and to bed.
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