A Little Help from my friends
I have found that living alone is not too bad. This summer, there have been times when I really missed the peace and quiet here when the summer people are all at home in Sciacca, or Palermo, or Milan, or. . .or. . . However, I must admit, sometimes it is really, really nice to have folks around here, especially folks that I can call my friends.
One of the hardest adjustments I have had to make in my day to day life is cooking for myself, just myself, every day, three times a day. I mean, breakfast is easy. A pot of coffee, a glass of juice, maybe some fruit, maybe some toast, and it is done. And of course the great coffee from Ideal Stagnita in Palermo, the great orange juice from Ribera, the great fresh fruit from the ortofruttica, and the one day old, now stale because it does not have a lot of chemical preservatives in it bread toasted with butter or margarine or peanut butter; well, that all adds up to a marvelous breakfast.
Sometimes, however, I have to admit that I get tired of making simple pastas, or complex pastas, or hot dogs, or tuna salad, or egg salad. Even going into town and getting a roasted chicken does not appeal to me. I think it is just that I am tired of eating alone. Indeed, that happened two days ago. I was tired of eating alone. I got up dreading meal time.
When I was sitting out on the terrace, Giusy and Lili next door called over. They were making Pasta con Pesto for lunch. Would I like to come over. Yes indeed, I certainly would. And it was good, and the company was good. Saved by the bell, at least for pranzo. Then just about when I
was about to go in and make a sandwich to have with some fruit salad for cena, Anna on the other side called over to me. Totò had brought home too many cozze (mussels). Would I like to have some with them. Not only were the cozze marvelous, and the broth marvelous, but the company was great as well. I spent two hours showing Giacomo, Vincenzo, and their friend Michele how to do a few simple magic tricks, talked to them about the dangers of steroids, and that the WWE was all pre staged, and not everything you see on TV is true. Then of course there was sfingi and pignonlatte for desert at the cavea.
So my friends took care of me when I felt down.
That was two days ago. Yesterday, Ignatzia called me at about noon. She had just made some fresh tomato sauce and fried up a bunch of eggplant. Did I want any. Now, you have to realize, frying eggplant here is different from frying it in the states. You do not have to salt it first. You just take the skin off the plant, cut it in cubes, dump it in olive oil with some salt and pepper, and off you go. However, even with this simple recipe, Ignatzia makes the best eggplant in the world. True, I did have to make my own pasta, and I did eat alone, but that was just as well. It was so good, I did not want to share it with anyone.
Come cena time, Giuysy (a different Giusy) and Franco came down with a huge dish of wonderful cous cous that they had made in honor of their daughter's 22nd birthday. They wanted to make sure that I got some of it, because they knew I liked cous cous. As I had spent the day talking with numerous people, I did not mind having a few minutes alone in which to devour it.
I figured the cavea was gone for the season with the sfingi festival, which was alright with me. My friend Lutz from Germany had just arrived, and we were sharing a nice cold Sicilian Beer (brand name Messina, if you think I am kidding about that), when Totò came over to let us know that tonight Ernesto was making his 'famous rissotto'. So we finished our beer, I tried to introduce Lutz to folks at the cavea, and thankfully there were a few who spoke some German, and Ernesto's rissotto was declared ready. It was ready for the gods. The rice was done perfectly, and a nicely, differently spiced mushroom and sausage sauce was used for the flavoring. Had a I taken my camera with me last night, you would be looking at a picture of master chef Ernesto. He really knows how to make Rissotto.
So after having woken up tired of cooking for myself, and tired of eating alone, I certainly have gotten by with a LOT of help from my friends. Thank you one and all.
One of the hardest adjustments I have had to make in my day to day life is cooking for myself, just myself, every day, three times a day. I mean, breakfast is easy. A pot of coffee, a glass of juice, maybe some fruit, maybe some toast, and it is done. And of course the great coffee from Ideal Stagnita in Palermo, the great orange juice from Ribera, the great fresh fruit from the ortofruttica, and the one day old, now stale because it does not have a lot of chemical preservatives in it bread toasted with butter or margarine or peanut butter; well, that all adds up to a marvelous breakfast.
Sometimes, however, I have to admit that I get tired of making simple pastas, or complex pastas, or hot dogs, or tuna salad, or egg salad. Even going into town and getting a roasted chicken does not appeal to me. I think it is just that I am tired of eating alone. Indeed, that happened two days ago. I was tired of eating alone. I got up dreading meal time.
When I was sitting out on the terrace, Giusy and Lili next door called over. They were making Pasta con Pesto for lunch. Would I like to come over. Yes indeed, I certainly would. And it was good, and the company was good. Saved by the bell, at least for pranzo. Then just about when I
was about to go in and make a sandwich to have with some fruit salad for cena, Anna on the other side called over to me. Totò had brought home too many cozze (mussels). Would I like to have some with them. Not only were the cozze marvelous, and the broth marvelous, but the company was great as well. I spent two hours showing Giacomo, Vincenzo, and their friend Michele how to do a few simple magic tricks, talked to them about the dangers of steroids, and that the WWE was all pre staged, and not everything you see on TV is true. Then of course there was sfingi and pignonlatte for desert at the cavea.
So my friends took care of me when I felt down.
That was two days ago. Yesterday, Ignatzia called me at about noon. She had just made some fresh tomato sauce and fried up a bunch of eggplant. Did I want any. Now, you have to realize, frying eggplant here is different from frying it in the states. You do not have to salt it first. You just take the skin off the plant, cut it in cubes, dump it in olive oil with some salt and pepper, and off you go. However, even with this simple recipe, Ignatzia makes the best eggplant in the world. True, I did have to make my own pasta, and I did eat alone, but that was just as well. It was so good, I did not want to share it with anyone.
Come cena time, Giuysy (a different Giusy) and Franco came down with a huge dish of wonderful cous cous that they had made in honor of their daughter's 22nd birthday. They wanted to make sure that I got some of it, because they knew I liked cous cous. As I had spent the day talking with numerous people, I did not mind having a few minutes alone in which to devour it.I figured the cavea was gone for the season with the sfingi festival, which was alright with me. My friend Lutz from Germany had just arrived, and we were sharing a nice cold Sicilian Beer (brand name Messina, if you think I am kidding about that), when Totò came over to let us know that tonight Ernesto was making his 'famous rissotto'. So we finished our beer, I tried to introduce Lutz to folks at the cavea, and thankfully there were a few who spoke some German, and Ernesto's rissotto was declared ready. It was ready for the gods. The rice was done perfectly, and a nicely, differently spiced mushroom and sausage sauce was used for the flavoring. Had a I taken my camera with me last night, you would be looking at a picture of master chef Ernesto. He really knows how to make Rissotto.
So after having woken up tired of cooking for myself, and tired of eating alone, I certainly have gotten by with a LOT of help from my friends. Thank you one and all.
posted by Steve at 8:16 AM
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