Rattle Those Pots

January 26, 2005 (Happy Birthday Allison!)

Arrivederci, Firenze. Ritorniamo dopo.
Well, from Bologna we headed to Paris. We’ve left Paris, have flown past Shannon and then Reykjavik to the North, and now are hovering midway over the Atlantic (or the Ocèan Atlantique, as the microscopic screen on the seat in front informs me). We’re very sleepy, but cheerful. The bad news: not much leg room on this long flight. The good news: the Air France gals are all having a long nibble and gossip in the back of the plane and seem to want to be left alone – which basically translates into an open bar for restless, roaming passengers. I’m trying not to spill water or champagne on the laptop. We’re medicating slightly.

We have succeeded in making fools of ourselves at least a dozen times today at the airport in Paris, as well as on the flight from Bologna and the flight that we’re currently on, by responding in Italian – or a very bizarre (and unintentional) Italian-English combo – when people address us in French. Oops. We catch it, but not until we already have been branded “Fool” by SIPs (Sneering Airline Personnel). Not a good omen for the next couple of weeks, since folks at Cordon Bleu have told us over half the population has French. We’ll have to work on that. Either that, or just pretend I’m a diehard mime whenever I leave the hotel or house.

Poor Charlie doesn’t know what the hell is going on. He keeps giving us these appalled looks through his crate screen door at each airport stop: “What? You have got to be kidding me. You’re sticking me in one of those noisy floating rooms again??” Poor guy. Wait ’til we strap on those warm doggie booties once we hit Montreal (I think they’re called “muttluks?”) He’s not gonna know what hit him. We’ll miss the Italian folks shouting “Il Pandino!” (The Little Panda) when they’d see him, and wonder what the French equivalent might be (maybe, “Why don’t you get your runt dog out of my way, stupid foreigner!” Just kidding, Cath and Daniel. I understand French Canadians are supposed to be friendly).

We had a very busy few weeks before leaving Florence, both with travel and with several farewell dinners and get-togethers. We’re sad at having to leave behind a big handful of people that we were so fortunate to meet, but we’re definitely excited about getting to go to Cordon Bleu. In a nod to Cooking Geekdom, we even get excited just looking at the 3-page materials and equipment list for school. Toys! Va tutto bene! Re Cordon Bleu, I also learned that the Ottawa campus was the first Cordon Bleu Paris offshoot that the Paris folks set up overseas (not a biggie, just interesting trivia. Other Paris offshoot campuses are in the UK, Seoul, Australia, Peru, Mexico, and Tokyo, I believe).

I’ve joined Women Chefs and Restaurateurs (womenchefs.org). They’re providing a lot of great information and good newsletters with networking opportunities and industry news, etc. I’m supposed to be assigned my mentor through WCR next week, and am curious to see who that will be.

Here’s a good one: I’m reading Appetite for Life (a 1997 Julia Child bio), and learned a few days ago that she didn’t have any formal culinary training until she attended Cordon Bleu (in Paris) when she was 37. Thom keeps repeating that bit of trivia to our Older People friends at the Florence school, which I get a kick out of. It seems to be good news to all of us, and provides welcome perspective. I think we’ve been surrounded by too many frat boys and tourists who didn’t take classes seriously at all (when they showed up), and honestly didn’t really seem to have any genuine interest in learning. We were starting to feel like old fogies. But it’s hard to learn, or even hear, when so many folks are stumbling in late each day, and then screwing around during the entire class. (Interesting Julia Child trivia, before I get off the subject: her mother, Caro Weston McWilliams, was the first woman in the country to get her driver’s license.)

I don’t know whether you’ll remember from my first update, but the first meal we had in Florence the night we arrived was at Il Magazzino Tripperia (the restaurant right outside our door on our piazza, where I had my infamous Bathroom Emergency Help Cord incident). We had dinner on our last evening in Florence there, too, and Paolo (my favorite fellow there, one of 4 partners) offered a standing invitation for one or both of us to do our stage (basically a kitchen internship) at Magazzino. We were so flattered by and grateful for the offer. It was unexpected, and would be a great reason to return to Florence for a spell. What nice, interesting people. After too many farewell grappas as regali (presents) from the Magazzino guys on our last night, I wasn’t exactly remembering them fondly first thing the next morning, but they’re just wonderful, kind people.

Le Nostre Chiamate in Gennaio (Our Visits in January)
This past month, we visited many of the museums and sites we hadn’t yet seen in Florence. My sister Katie came over for a spell (to celebrate her graduation – go Katie!), and we finally visited the Uffizi. Loved it, but to be honest, I actually liked seeing the paintings in Pitti Palace even more. (That seems to make me something of an oddity, I’m gathering.) Pitti also had several statues from 350-300 BC; they were by far the oldest things I’ve ever seen. It was fascinating to be standing 6 inches from them. They weren’t behind glass or any kind of divider, and I thought it was so interesting that you could just reach out and touch something that was thousands of years old (I didn’t, promise). I was surprised by how moving seeing something like that was, and spent quite a bit of time at that part of the exhibit.

In addition to museum trolling, during Katie’s stay we all but forcefed her dishes she hadn’t had before, and I’m pleased to report that Katie returns to the US with a newfound love for risotto (mushroom risotto, at that, from the professed Mushroom Hater!), red wine (Barollo, Barbaresco, Barbera), osso bucco, prosciutto, salsa di cinghalle (a tomato-based pasta sauce with shredded pork), seared duck breast, oil-cured olives, all sorts of bruschetta, and the over-the-moon satisfaction of something as simple as good olive oil with perfect crusty bread. I tried to turn her on to several fagioli dishes, biscotti and vin santo, but no dice this time around. Quello e male.

And speaking of twisting Katie’s arm to try new foods, the three of us visited Amsterdam and had a great time restaurant-hopping. Thumbs up to rice tables at Indonesian restaurants, Thai, and Indian (she’d never had any, other than an apparently unfortunate curry dish a few years ago). We basically dragged her to our favorite restaurants there from when we visited 3 years ago (we were glad they were all still the same!). In between gorging ourselves, we visited the Van Gogh Museum, the Anne Frank house, Puccini Chocolates (the best chocolates I think I’ve ever had), and the Red Light district, where ladies in storefront windows advertise their wares for strolling passersby. We basically walked off all of our calories exploring the Amstel river and so many of the pretty bridges…at least, that’s what we told ourselves as we ripped open our third bag of chocolates.

The week before, Thom and I headed to Dublin, and liked it even more than we’d expected. While we did see many of the sites (Trinity College, Ha’Penny Bridge, Christ Church Dublin, traditional dancers, etc.), we also, admittedly, saw even more empty glass bottoms as we tilted back yet another Guinness. (Do we get points if we also did the Guinness factory tour?) Thom’s proud that he’s “converted” me to the “magic of Guinness.” We chuckled at ourselves on the way back to the airport, because while our cabbie seemed like an extremely nice fellow, due to accent issues we literally could only catch about every fifth word.

Viaggiando nel Canada Oggi (Traveling to Canada Today)
Re schedule, we land in Montreal tonight and will spend a few days there, and then to Ottawa, where we spend another few days at a hotel, and then to our new apt on Feb 1. The apt has a gas fireplace, so we’re betting (or hoping?) that Charlie forgives us by that time, once he’s staked a claim on his new favorite Warmth Spot. (In Florence, it was the shifting spot on the kitchen tile floor where the sun shone in brightly.)

It took us several weeks, but we finally found an apt with all of the key things we were looking for. We’re in Centretown West, and are very pleased with the location (in a groovy neighborhood, walking distance to a bunch of shops and restaurants, and right nearby both Little Italy and Chinatown, which is a fun bonus). We’re in a restored 4-unit Victorian with lots of kitchen goodies and pretty details (and basics like washer/dryer – we missed having a dryer in Italy! – hardwood, storage, etc.), so we’ll hopefully feel snug and settled soon. Our emails will stay the same, and I’ll send cell phone info once we buy them this week. Winterlude starts this coming weekend and runs during February’s first three weeks, so those festivities and shows will hopefully help us adjust to a new city quickly. We’re planning trips to Montreal, Quebec City and Toronto, so if anyone has visited and has any must-see’s for us, please fwd.

Well, we’re now a mere 1,363 miles from Montreal. We’re approaching St. John’s, Saint-Pierre, and the Labrador Sea (“Mer du Labrador”), according to my trusted microTV. (What is the Labrador Sea, by the way? Can anyone tell me that?)

Ciao for now. Or should I get used to saying “Au revoir?” Or how about “Bye, eh?” Need to work on that one…

Ciao, tutti, e grazie di tutto.

Jen

Postscript: I’ve ordered my snug little LL Bean boots, and my Appointed Shipping Sister, Vicki, is mailing them, but can’t til we’re in the apt. I am now wearing Italian socks and shoes (it’s all I had that were somewhat sturdy, other than kitchen shoes). In short, leaving the airport tonight in piles of snow should be…interesting.