Stopped and picked up the makings of a minestrone with a fennel sausage they have here (not spicy but really flavorful.) The little alimentaria inside the butcher shop even had the beans and the broth on hand. I love not having to go to fifty places to buy everything for a meal. The alimentaria have some varities of pastas and jarred sauces too, all for the homemaker on the go. Not everyone has time make a sauce and simmer it all day like Grandma does. I also got a huge pork loin which I intended to fill with an artichoke & mushroom breadcrumb stuffing, and a light gravy for the top. It's getting close to Thanksgiving so I am all about dressings and stuffings. Thinking about missing Thanksgiving back home makes me want to cry. I want some of my pumpkin cheesecake so bad I can taste it. I would make it, I know the recipe by heart, but you can't find graham crackers here to save your life. It is a must for the crust.
Oh, yeah, the stuffed pork loin. So, my plan was to make up a big pot of soup and the pork loin with some veggies so Marco could just heat them up for her at meal times for the next couple of days, since I'm back with a group. If I get any guff from him about meat on a Friday I will smack him in the head. Most Italians don't eat meat on Fridays, even when it isn't Lent, Fridays are always very heavy on the fish. But fish doesn't lend itself well to re-heating. Deal with it buddy, or cook your own fish. At least I'm giving you protein-laden meals, Mister Man. I can just see it now... if he opens his mouth for a critique he's getting a size 11W in the middle of his head.
Got over to Giudecca just after 7AM and stopped for pastries. The girl at the caffe bar smiles and wishes me good morning, now that she knows I am the American sister of the unofficial mayor of Venice. She saw me walking up to the storefront and began placing cornetti in a bag for me. Smiley smiley. “Per la signora, prego!” Well, if Marco is the unofficial mayor of Venice, then Mamma is the Queen of Giudecca, along with her pack of church ladies. I'm just a handmaiden of the court when it comes to this crowd.
The girl asked me if Marco is ok – he hasn't been in for coffee in a few days – is he sick? No, no I don't think so. He has been taking his coffee with his mother when I make her breakfast. I told her I would give him her salutations. Her eyes got a little wide, she nodded and asked me to say hello to “la signora” as well. So that's it... somebody has a little crush on a customer it seems. He is sooooo going to get teased now.
Got to their house and set out breakfast. She was just getting up and dressed. He wasn't up yet and I didn't expect him to right away. He would be working the night shift so a late rising and a nap in the mid-afternoon were probably the order of the day. Mamma told me she slept last night without having a pain shot before bed. Good for her! But she needed a little bit now. I told her I would get Marco up to administer it. I'm happy to see she's ready to start tapering off the heavy meds. She really is on the mend. I knocked on his door and told him he was needed for a shot please. Mumbled garble from the other side of the door. “Yeah yeah, whatever. Please come out soon and you can go back to bed.” Mumble mumble garble. “Don't make me come in there and drag you out.” I heard him chuckle so I know he is coherent and heard me. I'm still a bit angry about our previous argument but I am capable of compartmentalizing and being around him in front of his mother and remaining civil.
I sat and had coffee and yogurt with Mamma. She has a problem with me not eating with her. She is used to doing everything in the kitchen, like she has for a thousand years, so when she sits down to eat she prefers I not be rushing around and making things. If it makes her feel better, okay fine. I was telling her of my exploits of last night in the bar, the opera singer comment. She laughed. “Kricka, ho sentito cantare. Potresti essere nell'opera.” Kricka, I have heard you sing. You could be in the opera.
Mmmm, no. I can sing, but not opera. Not in the slightest. That's a mother for you, though. Show the slightest capability or aptitude in something and they have you out there winning awards in their minds.
Marco came in with the syringe in his hand, grinning. “No, non un cantante d'opera. Fa i cani ululano in calli, quando lei si siede al piano bar. Gatti stridente è meglio di questa voce. A meno che lei ha una bottiglia di vino a se stessa, o avete una bottiglia di vino per yourself. Poi lei è tollerabile.” No, not an opera singer. She makes the dogs howl in the calles when she sits at the piano bar. Cats screeching is better than this voice. Unless she has a bottle of wine to herself, or you have a bottle of wine for yourself. Then she's tolerable.
Well somebody is in a spunky mood. He needs to watch what he's saying when he has a sharp objects in his hand. I have a brutal left fist that comes out of nowhere. It's been known to happen. Keep it up, pal.
I told him his girlfriend at the cafe asked if he had been sick. She misses your morning visits. He laughed. “Stefania? Sweet girl, but she is a child. She makes big cow eyes at me in the morning. How can the eyes get so large? I have never seen eyes so wide.” He translated for Mamma. She nodded. “Lei? Bambina.” She's a baby. Well that's settled.
Breakfast over, I started on setting up the soup. Chop chop chop, saute the veggies, brown up the sausage for flavor, add in the broth and herbs, bring it to a boil and then simmer. Keep it on a low flame until lunchtime. Reheat as needed for serving.
Now the pork. Butterflied the loin. Sauteed artichoke hearts, garlic, mushrooms and green onions in butter and parsley until tender, added broth simmered a few minutes, then made it into a stuffing with seasoned breadcrumbs. Plopped it in the middle of pork loin and tied it up with twine. In the roasting pan, in the oven at 220C / 400F for 45 minutes. The drippings were made into a light gravy to go over the top. By 10AM the house smelled like dinner. I blanched a pot of green beans for the side dish. They could get reheated without getting mushy now. I used some of the lemon pepper mix I brought over to mix in with butter and placed dabs of it in the pot for when they reheated it. I now have Mamma addicted to the lemon pepper, since introducing it to her on a past visit. I wrote instructions for reheating and assembly on a post it for Mister Man, removed the twine and cut the loin into slices for them. All they have to do is reheat the slices, warm up the gravy to top it and melt the butter with the green beans. They are set for at least two days with this. And don't forget the soup.
Made sure he knew what I had written instructions for him and his only response was “Where is the bread? Did you forget to buy bread?” You have two legs. Walk on down to the shop and buy all the bread you need, Marcolino. You poor thing.
Changed the bedding in Mamma's room and put it in the washing machine, pointed a finger at him and said “Don't even think of asking me to change and wash yours.” He laughed. What about my clothes? You will do those? Idiot. He was kind enough to take it upon himself to to the dishes I had soaking and mop the floor in the kitchen. Miracles never cease. He promised to hang the sheets when they were done. No problem.
Kiss kiss bye bye Mamma. I will come over in the evening to stay over while Marco works tonight. See you then. I needed to get back to the magazzino and change my clothes before heading up to the station.
Once I cross from Giudecca to San Zaccaria/San Marco I have choices on how to get home. I can either walk to the landing for another boatline that takes me up the Grand Canal, or I can walk it. It takes longer to transfer to the other boat line and snake up the canal to Rialto than it does to walk it and in the middle of the day the boats are jammed with tourists at most times of the year. They wouldn't be jammed with tourists today, most likely, and I wasn't in any particular rush but I decided to walk it anyway. It's a 15 minute walk including hiking over the Rialto bridge, the biggest in the city. I hate that bridge at night when I'm tired. All those stairs. Can't I have a ramp? Or a jetpack? It's also difficult for me to walk at a leisurely pace in these streets with all the shops for some reason. I walk with a purpose in general, I can't usually meander around. There are two speeds in this town – those people rushing through the streets to get somewhere and those piddling stop and gape at everything in the window even though you are three people deep in street and blocking everyone around you. Some people have no sense of their surroundings. You see something remotely interesting in a window? Go inside. Stop gaping out front and causing a bottleneck in these narrow streets. Guh.
Life in a nutshell right there.
Just before the Rialto bridge was a crowd of people staring at a few people who were in the process of setting up a tent. On the cement paving stones. There were a couple of policemen standing near, just watching them. They had a sign in front of their “encampment” that said OCCUPY VENICE. Oh goody. My first Occupy demonstration. I have been missing out on all the fun since I'm not in Oakland. Riots, vandalism, port takeovers. Somehow I don't see that happening here. Three people, a sign, a boombox and a tent. In the midst of a touristic and overly commercial disneyland. In the middle of souvenir stands. Literally. And the tourists just walk past without hardly a glance. This demonstration may not have much of an impact, I predict. This might be fun to keep tabs on.
I got a call on my telefonino from my other classmate in Florence. Carolina. I forgot she was coming up for the weekend. She is a youngster, 19, from Chile. We had our conversation classes together and she had written me a week before asking if she could come up. At the time it had looked like I would be in Rome but I had made an arrangement to where she would be able to pick up a key with one of my friends at the hotel bar to stay in my place. Yet here I was, not only able to give her a place to stay but show her around when I wasn't working or cooking on Giudecca. No problem. I told her I would be busy on Saturday morning until about noon, had to check in on Mamma, possibly stay overnight with her, but I had the afternoon and evening to show her the city. On Sunday I was open after my group left in the morning. She was more than welcome to come to place to sleep for the weekend. She would arrive on the 12:30 train on Saturday and leave Sunday night. Alrighty then. All this and hosting duties too. I called Serena to see if she and Roberta wanted to come out on Saturday night for a drink with us. They both speak Spanish and love the chance to practice with native speakers. Sere said yes for her and she would check with Robi but it was probably a yes. Okay, until later. Girls night tomorrow. I could go out with them for a few hours and make my way back to check on Mamma after Marco left for work and stay overnight with her. Carolina would be fine at my place by herself. Venice's streets are confusing, but it's a straight shot from Rialto where we would most likely be having drinks. She'd be able to find her way home just fine.
Back at the magazzino I changed and made myself presentable and struck out for the train station. I realized in the notes from Frank that he hadn't ordered the taxis for us, so I called the taxi service and gave them the information, how many arriving so how many boats we need and that our destination is the Europa Regina hotel. Gave them the company billing information. Okay okay, that's settled. Whew. Almost a mishap. Called the hotel to let them know that Frank was off the list for a room and that I wouldn't need one. I could have waited until I arrived, but assumed they would want that information as soon as possible in case they could fill it. I also called directly to Andreas' office to let him know, bypassing the front desk where it could have been confusing to them. He made the changes in the computer and released the open room into the system. No problem. Thank you Kristina I will see you shortly when you all arrive. He tacked my phone number as an emergency/contact number to all the guestrooms since I wouldn't be on site. Any questions go directly to me. Yay. I am an authority figure.
Met the group at the station. I knew which car they were in and stood outside. As they came off I said “Frank's group? Over here, right this way...” Got everyone to the taxis and we were off to the hotel.
Check in went very well considering I hadn't placed faces to names yet, but I used that opportunity to do exactly that. During the lunch buffet in the restaurant I went around to each table and chatted with everyone in mini get-to-know-you sessions.
We took our walk to San Marco and into the Basilica. Then we met our guide at the Doge's Palace. I usually hand them off and sit out the tour, since I've been on it plenty of times. But I felt the need to be around these folks as much as possible since I was coming in as the pinch hitter. So I took the tour. Smiled at the people. Gave small asides as we went from room to room in addition to the official tour guide. But I drew the line at taking the gondolas with them. Back at the hotel I helped them with decisions for dinner, pointing them in directions they showed interest in. Finished up my office hours in the bar and talked with Serena. I hung out a little later than usual after office hours just in case someone needed me at the last minute, even though they all know they can call the concierge desk and have their call put through to my mobile phone since I wasn't sleeping there.
I needed to get a change of clothes since I was sleeping on Giudecca and returning to the hotel early in the morning. Back to Rialto I go. I should just carry a backpack full if clothes with me at all times these days. As I made my way up the bridge I realized the “Occupy” tent wasn't there. I went back down the bridge to one of the souvenir vendors and asked “Che succendo?” What happened? They moved them to the next street over. Ha. I went to the next street over, they weren't there. Asked a shop owner. Moved them to the next street over. Popped my head around the corner again. Still one tent, still three people. Moved twice. Hmmm, not going too well so far, is it?
Clothes and essentials grabbed. Slice of pizza around the corner for dinner. I am glamorous. Back to Giudecca I go, after one more quick stop at the hotel to check on things. As I was coming off the vaporetto Marco was arriving to the stop. We stopped and talked for a few minutes, waiting for his boat. Mamma had a good day. Loved the soup, loved the pork. He hung the bedding once out of the wash and then folded it up and put it away. She wasn't in bed yet, and said she didn't want a shot before bed tonight, just like last night. He thanked me for everything I have been doing to help out, yet never mentioned the earlier argument. I asked him if we were going to talk about that or just continue to ignore it. He told me he didn't want to discuss things right now, he needed to go to work. Okey dokey. Enjoy your night. Don't get beat up by rowdy drunks.
Mamma was very chatty when I arrived. We watched some tv and she went to bed around 10. I stayed up for a bit longer, watching some computer tv and sacked out. Long day, but very satisfying.
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