Mother Nature thinks she's funny

It's snowing.

Now, this isn't earth shaking (earthquake puns are hard to stop) news for me, but in Liguria, this is enough to stop trains.  What started as mild, damp flurries, has now started sticking and is about an inch deep.  Our neighbor even yelled from the terrace for us to come out and see the train tracks below dusted in snow, and we joined several other people from our condo on the balcony, shivering and discussing how incredible this is.  Literally.  Manuel just yelled, for the 8th time tonight "This is incredible!", while looking out the window.

I started the day totally jaded to this, and then quickly remembered the last time that happened was the day of the flood, where I brushed off everyone's astonishment at the amount of rain early in the day, only to have the afternoon prove me incredibly, seriously wrong, so this time I stayed quiet.  In addition to the fact that I bragged a few days ago about how fantastic it was to have a whole year of not shoveling snow or scraping off my car.  I clearly spoke way too soon.

However, it was hard to stifle a laugh when our architect for the Cantina, who drove here from La Spezia, looked at the sky and lamented in a horrified voice, pacing and wringing his hands, that he had no idea how he'd be able to drive home in this weather and he might have to stay here.  They are quite obviously not used to this, and aside from transit fears, the sort of adorable enthusiasm about the snow is actually quite catching.  Manuel might have been serious when he suggested we could go sledding tomorrow, and though I'm inclined to doubt him, with the insane weather we've had this year, I'm not ruling out anything.

Yes, Monterosso still has it's Christmas tree up

They had a few flurries in Monterosso two years ago, but the last time it snowed and stuck was in 1985, and then before that was in the 60's.  It's quite rare, and the combination of snowflakes melting into the sea is incredibly magical.  In all honesty, I've dreamed about seeing snow at the beach my whole life.  When I was little, I assumed the waves would just freeze as the were, as though a snowy pause button had been hit, and snow would accumulate and icicles would hang off them.  Now, knowing better, it's still something I want to see, even without frozen waves.  To New York and New Jersey standards, it's really nothing, but nevertheless, I'm joining in happily in periodically popping out on the balcony and snapping pictures.  Tomorrow, like a happy kid who lived in the sun their whole life, I'm waking up early like all the snow enchanted Monterossini around me, and going to the beach.

These cacti are as confused as we are with the snow

Only this time, to take pictures of the perfect meeting of summer and winter.

Uva Fragola

Manuel's Uncle Diego, who makes his own wines and sciacchetrà, brought something amazing to Sunday lunch today.  He handed me a glass of what looked like your standard red wine, but the first waft of fresh, juicy berries from the glass shocked me.  "What is this?", I queried, sipping and savoring the flavor of sweet, fresh fruit in the glass.  "Uva fragola", he explained.  Strawberry Grapes?  I never heard of such a thing, but the wine produced proudly by Zio Diego was like a sweetly alcoholic fruit juice.  Light and delicious, but a ruby red color and with a normal alcohol content - it's a bit disconcerting, when your eyes and taste buds find themselves going in two different directions, but I was intrigued and now I'm entranced.  It's not at all like the fake, alcohol-pop-cooler variety of "mango falvored wine" or something of the like.  The flavor of real strawberries just hits you over the head - and it's easy drinking in spite of it's alcohol content does quite the same.
Strawberry grapes taste, obviously, exactly like strawberries, and can be used in all the same applications as grapes normally are.  Big, heavy, dark fruit layering vines that grow easily in Tuscany and, apparently, Liguria, these grapes are prized by European wine makers.  Even so, they are difficult to find, and because of this, strawberry grape wine is normally very expensive and not something you can easily hunt down in the liquor store.  Not only used for wine, but tarts, jams and other desserts are the normal uses for the fruit.  There is a traditional type of foccacia or flat bread in Tuscany that is laced with these grapes, giving it the unique distinction of being a sort of dessert foccacia.
It's quite tricky to track these grapes down in the United States.  I found a vendor in the UK who sells them for an insanely expensive price for grapes,  and most other websites I find substitute concord grapes for uva fragola.  However, having eaten concord grapes, I can attest to the fact that the two types are quite different.  It's been tricky to track down information on strawberry grape wine beyond the fact that "Strawberry wine" seems to be an incredibly popular song name.
I'm not surprised, because it's quite a "romantic" and delicious drink, and if you happen to stumble upon it, buy it as fast as you can.  Though it's a bit of a trick on your taste buds, it tastes so good it's quite easy to overcome the sensory confusion.

Earthquake!

As I wrote earlier, the area felt the tremors of a small earthquake Wednesday, but it was small enough that most people, myself included, felt nothing.  It was enough to (pardon the pun) rattle the nerves of locals who are a little wary of Mother Nature after the events of the past few months.

La Repubblica graphic -
Monterosso is to the left, on the ocean,
by the "S" in Spezia.
More or less.

However, at around 4 (3:53 to be exact, according to the Italian newspaper La Repubblica), the earth shook for the second time this week, and it would have been hard NOT to feel it.  I looked over at our kitchen table, which was shaking, and I was confused as I wasn't standing anywhere near it.  I was worried, thinking, "did I run into it and not remember?  What's wrong with me?", but as it kept shaking, it finally registered and I yelled and ran into the doorway.  Also worth noting, Italians need a refresher in earthquake safety, as everyone else ran down the stairs and outside.  Doorframe is where it's at, then, as we ironically noted later on, reading an earthquake safety article, a "sporting field" is also recommended as a place to hide out.  Manuel's sister, Sara, laughed, "And what if your 'sport field' is, literally, on the ocean?"
Point, Sara.
It registered a 5.4, which is enough to (again, pun) shake things up, but not enough to cause significant damage.  However, an already nervous region is again unnerved, as some scientists are warning that this is a reminder that the area does have a good amount of seismic activity, and that even stronger quakes are certainly possible.  The epicenter was not far away, in between Parma and Liguria, and tremors were felt as far north as Switzerland.
I learned the phrase, "Ci manca anche questo", which means, more or less, "Yeah, we REALLY needed this too", sarcastically.  It's an appropriate idiom for these past few months.
And the Ligurian children are lucky they don't have a system where you have to "make up" days of school you missed, like we do in the U.S., because they don't have school again tomorrow (yes, there is school on Saturday mornings in Italy) due to seismic activity.  Regardless, twice in a week, and more then that in 3 months since the flood.

I present the earthquake damage at my apartment: my banana nutella loaf fell over, ha.
Thank goodness that's it.

Ci manca anche questo.

When life hands you lemons, make limoncino.

And when it hands you oranges, make spremute.  Fresh squeezed orange juice, or a spremuta, is a great part (and arguable one of the only parts) of breakfast in Italy, as well as a nice refreshment in the afternoon.  When you have 4 pounds of oranges, there is not much else you can do.

Seriously.

peeling away

Winter citrus in Monterosso is abundant and beautiful, and when our neighbor or Manuel shows up with huge bags of oranges and lemons, in odd but endearing shapes, there are only so many things that can be done.  Manuel's uncle from Tuscany makes crema di limoncino from the lemons we bring him whenever we visit, and after acquiring his incredibly simple recipe, I got to work.  Limoncino, or limoncello in the South of the country (they're exactly the same, it's just a north/south language distinction) is a sweet, intensely yellow, lemon flavored liquor that is found in the freezer of every Italian family I know in New Jersey.  It's obviously the same here, and making it at home is easy and costs a fraction of buying a bottle.  Especially with all these beautiful Monterosso lemons.

soaking in alcohol

Crema di limoncino is even better.  Milk is added and when the liqueur is pulled from the freezer, it's creamy, half frozen, rich and sweet, and full of bright, intense lemon flavor.

adding everything together

milk and sugar cooling

I halved the recipe Manuel's Uncle gave me, as 3 liters of limoncino seemed a bit much, so I started with 4  large Monterosso lemons.  I removed the skins (be careful not to take too much of the white pith and just use the skin!) and then added a half-liter of 95 proof alcohol, covered, and let the skins submerge and infuse the alcohol for one week.

salute!

Then, the bright yellow alcohol is strained to remove the skins.  In a pot, heat a liter of good quality milk with a kilo of sugar until the milk is hot but not boiling, and the sugar is completely dissolved.  Let it cool, then combine the lemon alcohol with the milk/sugar, and funnel into bottles.  Leave in the freezer, and once it's ice cold, enjoy - but watch out.  It's sweet, icy, creamy and addictive - but also really, really strong.

Lo sciopero and school

I've written about the importance of the word sciopero in the Italian language before, and now it has another reason to make an appearance in my life.  In the United States, we miss school in the winter months due to snow, brutal cold, and other equally horrible things I'm happy to not have to deal with.
In Italy, we miss school because of the all-powerful sciopero.  There is a strike of what seems to be everything today, and for the past few days.  Trains, buses, and trucks are not running or working fully today.  In cities, where they are more dependent on public transport, it's much worse.  I couldn't imagine New York with all subways, buses, ferries and cabs simply not running.  It's an nightmare for anyone who needs to be somewhere, even someplace as normal as school.  This means that, even with our car, we can't actually go anywhere because the nearest gas station, in Levanto, is out of gas as the trucks aren't coming to deliver more.  We rushed to Ricco, about 45 minutes away, after learning about the strike to fill up our tank, unsure if there was still gas there.  The irony of driving 45 minutes to get gas- only to face the possibility that there wasn't, in fact, any gas there, then drive home, now with an empty tank- was not lost on me.  We were actually able to get gas, but, regardless, not enough to go to school.  So, in a nutshell, I have a "sciopero" day from school, and the school kids in the region really have it made.  There was a small earthquake by Milan (4.9), and many nervous schools even here cancelled class Wednesday.  Considering the nightmare weather events Liguria has been subject to recently, they aren't taking any chances.


Fine by me, though I do enjoy Chiavari and my lessons there.  Even the frequently-late-and-now-not-running train is fine by me, as the views more then make up for it.  Chiavari, like the rest of the region, has been having an unseasonably warm and sunny January.  Like Monterosso, the mild weather (in the sun, high 50's F) has meant people are walking the promenade, arm in arm, laughing in sweaters on the beach, and eating happily outside in the sun.  From the pictures, it seems like summer.  It's wonderful, though disconcerting.  The feeling in the air is that of a New York March.  That period when the snow has melted and there is a taste of spring in the air, accompanied by warm sun melting away the winter frost.  The fact that it's still January confuses me, though I'm not complaing.  Sciopero or not, I'll take a sunny January day and lunch outside.  And even though I'm 28, having a day off from school still has that same joyful feeling.

Dramatic Flood Video

This video was made by Franz, the partner of Manuel's Aunt and Uncle at the pottery shop in the Old Town of Monterosso.  It's the best video I've seen in the sense of giving an idea of what we was seeing that day, and what we were all going through.  It's very dramatic, and gives you an idea of how staggering the damage was to Monterosso.

But you can also see how incredibly far we have come.

You can access the YouTube video here.

Back to school

Veggie-centric dinner

Today was the return to my life as a commuter.  After my many years fighting with New Jersey Transit, the MTA, and several assorted bus companies, you would think I'd be incredibly thrilled to never have to commute to anything again.  My walk from my house to the Cantina is 4 minutes, and a beautiful 4 minutes at that.  However, I was ecstatic to get up early, buy a weekly ticket, and start my first day of language school in Chiavari.  The 30-40 minute ride is right next to the ocean, cutting through mountain tunnels here and there, but otherwise beautiful, and much more preferable to the Northeast Corridor or the A train.

Braised beef with red wine

This nerdy excitement is due to a few things, first being that I'm really eager to improve my Italian.  I'm a bit of a perfectionist, and it makes me cringe inwardly when I hear myself say something wrong, or when I can't make myself understood, so I'm very happy to have this time to practice.  Every morning this week I'm going to the Nel Blu language school in Chiavari, which was highly recommended by several people I met - even Manuel took an english course there several years ago.  With my fresh new notebook and pens, I showed up early and grinning.  I may have scared them.

Ravioli from Chiavari with Tuscan
jarred tomatoes from Manuel's Uncle

Second, I was just excited to get out of Monterosso.  It's been a heavy time here, emotionally, as we try and rebuild everything that was lost in the flood, and I'm of little use.  The design negotiations and insurance company mess can't be handled by someone with baby-level Italian, and the knocking down drywall and lifting refrigerators is best left to someone with more upper body strength.  I've been spending the majority of my time cleaning and cooking.  I've made braised beef and red wine stew.  Bought every vegetable I could find and spent a week cooking them in various ways (broccoli rabe is awfully difficult to cook in 7 different ways), started the makings of some homemade limoncino with Monterosso lemons, and cleaned the whole apartment.  Several times.  As I was swiffer-ing for the third time one day, I saw Manuel quietly eyeing me.

"What?" I asked, slightly embarrassed to be caught in this incredible display of obsessive cleaning.

"We really need to get you out of this house," he laughed in response.

Finally, I like Chiavari a lot.  It's a town I visited on one of my summer field trips, and I initially was a little annoyed by the fact that it was a little city of about 27,000.  Nothing compared to New York, but about 27 times bigger then Monterosso.  I wanted more quaint fishing villages.  Stretches of rocky coastline.  I wasn't ready for horn honking and serious shopping.  Now, with a clear head and no expectations of what a town should or should not be, I find the long archways that cover the seemingly hundreds of small shops really beautiful.  There are bakeries, bread shops, butchers and open air markets.  Genovese style palaces stand amidst the typical Ligurian pastel buildings, alternating between charming and ornate, showing the incredible history of the region.  The beach here is know for it's crystal clean water, and the town has a long boardwalk and several gardens and lovingly tended public spaces.  There is a yoga school, which was another huge plus in my book.  I found a little shop selling homemade, fresh pasta that I can pick up and bring back to Monterosso for lunch.  Also, Chiavari is heavy on the Italians, light on the tourists.  Unlike the nearby Cinque Terre, where for several months out of the year, English is arguably as spoken as Italian, Chiavari is a city with a small amount of tourists, especially in January.  English will not get you far here, and I'm really happy that especially on my own, I get to speak Italian more in situations with strangers, and the Chiavaresi are very friendly.  At the bookstore, the pasta shop and the office supply store, I struck up small conversations with people who were naturally curious what I was doing here.  After telling them my story, they immediately asked about Monterosso, with sympathetic faces.  Today, again stopping at the same bar for coffee, the woman again inquired about the situation after the flood, getting a co-worker, and explaining that everyone's thoughts were with us.  More then their thoughts, as well, as the Lion's Club and other civic organizations in Chiavari have donated time and money, bands came to play, and some Chiavaresi even organized Christmas gifts for the children in Monterosso.

First thing I saw this morning from the apartment

Granted, at the end of my unpleasant subway rides, or stand-still traffic M8 bus headaches, or NJTransit  induced migraines, New York was on the other side.  7 minutes to eat lunch, 13 minutes to make it to yoga, then the run down Broadway to make it to class on time, with 22 seconds exactly to stop and get a coconut water from the man on the street.  Here, I'll take a short, seaside train ride to a town with great shopping and food to learn Italian and maybe throw in a yoga class.  It's interesting how dramatically one's life can change in just a few months, and even more so when you realize that you are getting incredibly accustomed to it.