Vignettes

So named because I have three unrelated topics to share and could not come up with any other title.

1. Notte Bianca: Translation of this is "White Night" and what it really means is "Here is Your City-mandated Excuse to Stay Up All Night and Party." This occurs on April 30 and not only does it mean that there are performances at venues all around the city, it also means that the stores stay open until midnight and offer discounts, bars and restaurants pump up the free food angle, and people come from far and wide, pouring into the city center to eat, drink and be merry. I wish I could have somehow captured a photo of this because I have never seen anything like it. But it was dark, of course, and I don't think my little digital camera could have captured the spirit and energy of this event.
   
   The closest comparison I can come up with is when the Red Sox won the World Series in 2004 and within moments all of the Copley Square area was teeming with people screaming, cheering, honking horns, etc. The streets all over Florence were packed with people, there were bands of drummers behind which formed impromptu dancing parades, and literally everyone was walking around with a drink in their hand. Yet another thing I love about this place: open containers are not illegal in any sense. It was quite a spectacle and I'm glad I got to witness it, though I was feeling bad for the poor people who would have to clean up after all this...
   
   
2. Klab: I am no gym rat but I have definitely logged my share of hours sweating it out at the old health club. So I figured that stepping foot into Klab, my new gym, would feel instantly comfortable, like a little slice of home. On the contrary, though, there are several things that made it screamingly apparent that I was not on home turf:
   • Men in Italy have no problem wearing spandex shorts. And when I say "shorts," I mean SHORTS.
   • Women in Italy have no problem being nude in the locker room. I realize this is what the locker room is for, but in the States women do not walk around, have conversations, dry their hair and put in makeup while naked in the locker room. We are without clothing for approximately 2 seconds and even then we are trying to cover ourselves with a towel or something. Not the case here. They are confident enough not to care. I wish that would rub off on us Americans.
   • Cardio machines are in (GASP!) Italian and weights are in kilograms. It takes a while to get accustomed to this. It took 5 tries to set the program for the treadmill. But I do love inputting my weight in kilograms. I pretend it's pounds.
   
   
3. Ethnic cuisine: I love Italian food as much as anyone which is one of the reasons I chose to come here in the first place. But after weeks and weeks of pasta your body starts to crave something (anything) different. Fortunately there are quite a few ethnic restaurants in Florence which, while they may not be quite the same as you'd find in the States (or the original countries, of course,) they satisfy the craving. So I've had sushi twice in the past 2 weeks and had some pretty good Pad Thai last Sunday.
   
   But trying to cook something non-Italian is not an endeavor for the weak of heart. I invited my new girlfriends to my apartment for a dinner party on Tuesday and decided to make it Mexican Night in honor of Cinco de Mayo. I had already found one store (thankfully close to my house) that has many of the necessary components including the taco seasoning mix, hard corn and soft flour shells, chips, and salsa. A good start but you can't have tacos without cheese and sour cream. I heard a rumor that the store across town had sour cream so I set off on Monday to locate said store.
   
   Finding the store was not the problem, it was trying to figure out where they might keep sour cream that proved to be the true challenge. I wheeled around that store for at least an hour. I knew it should be called "panna acida" but no container had those words. Would it be near the ricotta? Near the yogurt? Near the cheese? No. As I was just about to give up I saw some little containers tucked in with the fresh milk. They did not have the words "panna acida" on them but the little sign beneath them did so I took a leap of faith and bought two.
   
   Thankfully I was right and hosted my Mexican Fiesta dinner party to some pretty good reviews. It still had a Tuscan flair: since I was unable to locate either cheddar or Monterey Jack cheese at any of the multiple stores I visited, we had to garnish with provolone. So maybe it wasn't quite the same as home but it was enough of a departure from pasta that no one seemed to care. And the sour cream was definitely the icing on the taco.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *