Cottage Wall

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Click to enlarge

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Taken on a hike from Fiesole, in the hills above Florence, to Maiano.

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Visit Wordless Wednesday to see what other people aren't saying this week.

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Dreaming of Italy

Florence - River Arno from the Ponte Vecchio, November 2007

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Saturday Photo Scavenger Hunt: Unique/Funny Signs

Taken on a hike outside Florence, Italy last fall.

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This is my first time participating in the scavenger hunt, but when I saw the theme I knew this one was too good to pass up.

Wordless Wednesday

Florence, November 2007

The Old Man Of The Mountain

The Old Man Of The Mountain

The wonder of the journey is often in the unexpected, that serendipitous find waiting around the next bend that makes the whole trip worthwhile.

While we were in Florence Jay and I took a day to hike from the village of Fiesole to the tiny hamlet of Maiano, where we had reservations at a traditional trattoria for lunch. (You're not sick of these Florence anecdotes yet, are you? I hope not, but even if you are you're stuck with this one since I've been waiting for a chance to share it and this week's Sunday Scribblings prompt of walk gave me the perfect opportunity.) You knew food was going to enter into it somehow too, didn't you? I suppose that was a bit of a foregone conclusion, what with me and Italy and all. Nevermind, it's a minor part of this tale. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah...

While walking we came across an old quarry, one hundreds of years old. Rock from this site and others like it built much of Renaissance Florence. I stood at the base of the quarried rock imagining the backbreaking work it must have taken to first quarry it and then transport it to the city miles below. When I looked up, I was surprised to see a face looking back at me out of the rock, just as he must have looked out at so many others over the years. He seemed almost a living part of the stone, a sentinel keeping watch. What emotions hide behind that stony visage? What does he think of this work of man? Was it in fact for the glory of Florence, or the glory of the Church, or did he feel that his world had been ripped away, leaving him raw and exposed? How many stories have those stone eyes seen? What was the reason for the sadness they seem to hold? I could barely look at Michelangelo's Prisoners* in the Galleria dell'Accademia, so painful did I find their imprisonment in the stone, but my old man of the mountain seemed somehow more melancholy than trapped. Perhaps it is because he appears more organic - a living part of the stone, almost its essence, rather than something being freed from its clutches.

I can't help but wonder how he came to become my old man of the mountain. Was he an accident of a workman's chisel, or did the quarry master have a sense of whimsy? However he came to be, I am richer for having found him.

He had some lovely neighbors too. These are a few of the things we stumbled across as we walked through the woods that day.

A warning to watch out for falling signs?

* Michelangelo's Prisoners are a series of unfinished sculptures where the subjects seem to be struggling to break out of solid blocks of marble. Michelangelo believed his figures were divinely created within the rock, that as he attacked the stone with his chisel he was simply chipping away the excess to make them visible.

Ribollita - the ultimate winter soup

A specialty of Tuscany, this hearty bean and vegetable soup is served all over Florence in the winter. To call it a soup though is actually a bit of a misnomer. While it starts out as a soup, it gets thickened with bread before serving and by the time it's brought to the table it's actually more like a stew. A delicious, stick to your ribs, warm you right up from the inside stew.

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I gorged myself on sampled ribollita in many different restaurants during our recent trip to Florence (and in fact ran out to buy a Tuscan cookbook to be sure I could recreate my new favorite winter food once I returned home). Out of all the ones I tasted the hands-down winner had to be the one served at Trattoria Mario. That particular one is so well known that it's recipe is posted on the website of an Italian cooking school. Their recipe is the one I used to make the dish you see above (with the substitution of swiss chard for the unavailable in Israel black cabbage).

I couldn't wait to try it out, and now that the weather is cooling off a bit and making it possible to think about soups again I did. I'm happy to say that it was every bit as good as the one I got in the restaurant, though I must admit that the atomosphere was somewhat lacking... I should have brought in a few strangers to share my table and added some house wine and a huge amount of noise to get the full effect.

Buon appetito!

Food Shopping, Italian Style

Food stalls in Florence are a feast not only for the taste buds but for all the senses, exploding with color, aroma, and even sound as the hawkers cry their wares. We had a real dilemma before we went, trying to decide if we wanted to be in a hotel or instead in an apartment where we would have the opportunity to cook when the mood struck us. The hotel won out in the end, which was just fine, but still, it would have been fun to be able to actually sample all this bounty ourselves. Instead I settled for photographs, and we'll set our rejuvenated cooking muse free among the riotous melange of color that is the market right down the block. I suspect it won't come up wanting.

The Mercato Centrale (home of the infamous porcini mushrooms - yes, right there in that blue bag)

Italians even manage to make garlic and squash look stylish.

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Well, most of the time that is. This one from the Mercato Centrale looks more like an Israeli market (or rather the way an Israeli market would look if any of those types of squash were sold here. Ours tend to be these huge giant things that can't be lifted off the ground. You tell the seller how much you want by weight, and he hacks you off a piece with a giant scary looking knife. Either that or teeny tiny round zucchinis and such. Nothing that says "fall" quite as well as these.). I'll bet these Italian ones tasted damn good, too.

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A weekly market in the Piazza Santo Spirito. Gives new meaning to the phrase "truck farm", doesn't it? If you look closely you'll see that this little guy has only three wheels. Sort of what you'd get if you bred a big semi and a tricycle...

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TT - Florence Photo Blogging

This week I've got a photo list for you. These are 13 of the photos I took during my trip to Florence last week. I've selected them to show a diverse slice of Florentine life. I don't know how many people will actually see them with it being Thanksgiving, but I wanted to share my visual impressions of this magnificent city now while they're still fresh in my mind. It was so hard to choose just 13... If you'd like to read more about our trip just click on the "Florence" tag down at the bottom of this post. I'll be writing more about it and sharing more photos over the coming weeks, so check back often.



Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.


Happy TT, and happy Thanksgiving to all who are celebrating today. (Since Thanksgiving is a regular work day here in Israel we'll be celebrating on Saturday with a whole host of good friends and a turkey dinner complete with all the trimmings.)

Shoe fetish anyone?

Especially for Kelley, who you might have noticed has a small thing for shoes...

And sorry to disappoint you dear, but no, I didn't buy any. While I loved some of the summer shoes I saw in back corners of the occasional store, nearly everything they're showing now were either uber-formal shoes and breakyourneckhigh heels or else very dressy high boots, none of which match my current "works from home mom of two small kids" lifestyle, and it seemed a bit daft to try on the few pairs of leftover sandals I saw when I was freezing my ass off...

I consoled myself with a gorgeous red leather wallet and new brown leather bag instead. I know, life just sucks that way, doesn't it?... Much more "me" than a pair of 4-inch stiletto heels I'd never have occasion to wear (and would instantly want to take off the moment I did try to wear them.)

Aaaahhhhhh...

Hear that sound?

That's the sound of me breathing in the quiet peaceful feeling you get after houseguests depart (if by that quiet peaceful sound you mean the sound of my daughter jabbering and sleep-avoiding as I sit by her bed, listening the chaotic sounds of things falling down all over the damn place some kind of home repair that is).

My parents left about an hour ago. We had a wonderful visit, but even if your houseguests are family that you love dearly it's still nice to get your house back again. I celebrated the way any red-blooded woman would - by removing my bra and changing into an oversized t-shirt. A girl's gotta be comfortable you know. The kids were both pretty sad to see my parents go, but my mother actually handled it better than usual since they're already planning a return trip in the spring, and most importantly since we sprang the news that we'll be coming to New England for a visit this summer. She always does a lot better when she knows when she'll see us next.

Now it's time to get back into a more normal routine - a LOT less eating and drinking (MUST get serious about a diet and get back to the gym), work, playdates and all that. I've also got a lot of blog posts percolating and many photos waiting to be shared. For now I'll have to leave you with this:

State of the Union (in bullet form)

What's going on in my life this weekend:

• Florence was amazing, but bloody cold
• Made it home (by the skin of our teeth)
• Most things made it safely
• Except the fresh porcini mushrooms - sadly they brought little visitors with them and had to be trashed (yuck!)
• And my Swiss Army card (with 0.5cm knife that has successfully passed security dozens of times - until Thursday)
• Kids were delighted to have us back
• Grandma and Grandpa survived, happy but exhausted
• Spent today on a picnic in a forest, plus a visit to 5th century mosaics at a nearby monastary
• Going out for Japanese food tonight
• My parents are leaving Tuesday night, so I'll be scarce for a few more days

To all 6 of my faithful readers who are still out there checking on me, bear with me another few days. I'll be back, and I've got loads to say.

So beautiful I could have wept

We've seen so much incredibly beautiful art since we arrived in Florence that it's difficult to believe that a single piece hidden among so many others could stop me in my tracks, but that it did. It wasn't Michelangelo's David (though his beauty took my breath away) or the delicate frescoes of Masaccio, so beautiful and so historically significant, or Ghiberti's Baptistry doors, magnificent as these "Doors of Paradise" are.

No.

It was a minor piece by Agostino di Duccio (1418-1481). The piece that left me speechless, unable to look away and nearly weeping for joy was a marble relief of a Madonna and Child hanging on a wall in the Bargello Museum. I've seen literally hundreds of works depicting the Madonna and Child in my life and to be honest as a secular Jew the religious impact is pretty much lost on me beyond the historical and socio-political implications, but this particular piece touched my soul. I could have cried at its grace and beauty, the incredible delicacy of the faces, and the way the artist turned cold stone into folds of cloth so soft I had to restrain myself from reaching out to touch them. Mere words on a page could never convey the inner beauty he coaxed from the stone, the life he imbued in it. Photography is not permitted in the art museums, and I felt such a loss at not being able to preserve even a faint memory of the work that had touched me so. What a wonder then to discover that in this internet age all is possible.

I give you "Madonna and Child with Angels", by Agostino di Duccio.

This tiny photograph is merely a pale shadow of the original, but perhaps it will somehow touch your soul in the way that the memory of its counterpart in the Bargello touches mine.

Sore feet and a well-earned nap

Today we took a break from Renaissance art. We took a bus up to the nearby town of Fiesole (where we skipped the Etruscan ruins - Israel's got plenty of its own Roman ruins and we'd seen these before). After a quick peak into the cathedral we set off into the hills - on a 2 hour hike over a mountain to a tiny hill village, where we had reserved a table for lunch at a local trattoria - one of only two restaurants in the town (which in itself only seemed to have four or five buildings).

Lunch was superb. Porcini mushrooms are in season now, and for the first time in my life I was able to taste them fresh. I ordered tagliatelle in porcini sauce and practically swooned at the first bite. They looked like ordinary mushrooms but the taste was pure porcini and was out of this world. The rest of the dishes were equally good (I think you'd have to try awfully hard to get a bad meal here...). I finally got to taste the hazelnut pasta sauce I remembered from my first trip to Italy and have been trying to recreate ever since.

After a four-course lunch dinner, if we make it out at all, will probably be pizza and ice cream. Not that I need any extra courses at this point, but I do feel that my gelato survey is falling behind. Can't have that happen now, can we?

Hallelujah - clean clothes at last

My bag finally arrived this morning, about 30 minutes before I would have gone completely postal.

Freshly showered and dressed in clean clothes at last, we set out to conquer the town. After reserving tickets for the Uffizi for Wednesday (might as well go out with a bang) we set off for the Pitti Palace where I had my thankfully now clean socks blown off by the frescoes on the walls and ceilings. The paintings were beautiful, especially some of the Raphael's, but it was the rooms themselves that truly took my breath away. I'd read in a guidebook somewhere that Florentine Renaissance painters "sculpted with paintbrushes", but until I saw it for myself I couldn't imagine what this meant. These masters painted pictures of sculpures that were so realistic that I almost needed to touch them to believe that they were in fact flat paintings. (If I could have reached out to stroke them without causing damage or getting myself arrested I would have, believe me.) I have no idea how I could have missed this on my first trip, but perhaps I was too young or busy too really appreciate them then. I'm only sorry that photography wasn't permitted inside the galleries, I'll have to look to Mssr. Go°gle for examples to show you all later. For now, I can only say that their incredible beauty and skill took my breath away.

After another hearty trattoria lunch (I am loving this ribollita soup) we headed to the Brancacci Chapel to see frescoes telling the story of Peter. These delicate, beautiful paintings by Masolino and Masaccio in the 1420s show graphically the impact of the Renaissance on painting. Masolino's frescoes are more simple and decorative and still have some of the medieval tendency to "float" in space. Masaccio's on the other hand are strikingly real and emotional. The figures portrayed show the full range of human emotion and true to real life they are often each looking in different directions, following different parts of the visual story. In the background you see mothers walking with their children, laundry hung out to dry, and other scenes of daily life. Masaccio was a ground-breaker in his use of perspective and the viewer truly feels the scene unfolding before their eyes. After viewing the chapel itself we saw a 45 minute movie which used computer animation to bring the frescoes to life and anchor their place in time and history.

After taking in all the art Jay could manage in one day we headed back towards our hotel, stopping for a well-deserved gelato on the way. I ordered a scoop of what I'm guessing was some kind of divinely-inspired cookie dough flavor when the woman behind the counter told me I was entitled to a second flavor for the same price. I panicked trying to choose and asked to taste "panna montana". She explained that that flavor was "plain cream". It was delicious and strangely creamy. Still, the line was building behind me so I said sure, I'll have that. It wasn't until I began eating that I realized that my mystery flavor was whipped cream! I'd actually stood there and asked for a taste of whipped cream, and what's more I hadn't even recognized it when given the taste! Slightly ridiculous, but I suppose there are worse things in life than getting a scoop of fresh whipped cream on top of your ice cream...

I'll stop this novel for now, "Happy Drink" time is over (I'm blogging from the lobby) and Wake Me Up Before You Go Go just came on the radio - time for a fast escape.

Clean socks are overrated anyway

Hello from Florence. Jay and I arrived late last night after a mad dash to make our connection in Vienna (thank you Austrian Airlines for arriving 30 minutes late and screwing up your own connection). Unfortunately our luggage remained back in Vienna and will not arrive in Florence until late tonight, meaning that we won't get our bags until sometime TOMORROW. Fortunately there was a pharmacy open late just down the road from our (cute and perfectly situated) hotel so we were able to buy toothbrushes, shampoo and even a replacement package of the birth control pills that I had very stupidly packed in my suitcase! (Apparently that normally requires a prescription here too, but I knew exactly what I needed and the pharmacist thankfully took pity on me.)

As soon as we ate breakfast this morning we went off to do some much needed shopping - clean socks and underwear (hurray!), a long-sleeved shirt, etc. and even a few of life's non-essentials - new leather wallets for each of us and a gorgeous new leather bag for me. After that we were finally ready for some sightseeing - a quick spin around the Duomo where I yet again gaped open-mouthed at the most incredibly vivid blues and greens used in the stained glass windows (I have a real thing for Chartres blue, turquoise, teal and that whole family of colors - they transform even the most ordinary stained glass windows into something magical, and these were far from ordinary.)

After a few more hours just wandering around and soaking up the atmosphere (and a few stray raindrops, but just a few - luckily, since of course my umbrella and all our warm clothes, heck, all of our clothes, are still AWOL in Vienna) we went for an amazing lunch at a traditional trattoria (Mario's for anyone who knows Florence, and yes, it's reputation is absolutely justified). I enjoyed the ribolleta and chick pea soups so much that I went straight from the restaurant to a bookstore for a new Tuscan cookbook to add to my collection (recipes to follow in a few weeks).

We're now back at the hotel to relax for a while. Later we'll head out to a nearby wine bar for drinks and a light dinner (since we're not exactly dressed for fine dining, not to mention because we just had lunch at 3:30).

Hopefully my suitcase will show up tomorrow with my cord for the camera (not to mention all of my clothes!) and then I'll be able to share some pictures.

Ciao for now.

Update: Jay's suitcase just showed up. Mine is nowhere to be found and all the lost and found has is a recording saying "one delivered, one not delivered". Not fair. *pout*

TT - Going to Florence!

By the time many of you read this (Thursday afternoon my time) my husband and I will be on an airplane on our way to a glorious week in beautiful Florence, the first time we've returned since our first wedding anniversary 15 years ago. Here are a few of the things we'll be encountering (and of course blogging about):

1. Michaelangelo's David at the incredible Accademia Gallery

2. The Duomo (we'll even be able to see the cathedral's dome from our hotel window, just a few dozen meters away)

3. The Baptistry, and in particular its doors

4. The Uffizi

5. The Pitti Palace

6. The Boboli Gardens

7. The view of Florence from the Roman ruins of Fiesole

8. The Ponte Vecchio

9. The San Lorenzo and Central Markets

10. The Science Museum

11. Every enoteca (wine bar) in our neighborhood

12. Amazing food, like steaming plates of pasta followed by Bistecca alla Fiorentini, surely one of the world's most perfect dishes

13. Undertaking a detailed and accurate survey of the city's best gelaterias


What we WON'T be doing is setting an alarm clock for 6:15am, spending endless hours at playgrounds, eating dinner too early "before the kids get too cranky", wiping anyone's bum, or spending hours putting people to bed and then more hours waking them up again, since we're leaving them home with their doting grandparents *runs around the room shrieking and shouting in glee*. Yes, you read that right, we are setting off on our very first real kid-free vacation in seven years! I'm trying not to act too visibly giddy in front of my parents, who are of course here to see all of us and will be the ones doing all these things while we're gone.









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