Posts from — July 2009

On the train from Florence to Castelnuovo, we met a very nice man.  He was a banker around the age of 35, impeccably dressed, and speaking perfect English (of course).

My dad, who makes friends with everyone struck up a conversation with him.  When he learned that we were Americans, the very first thing he said was,

“You are very thin for Americans.”

Awesome.

This wasn’t the only time I heard this, but it was the first.  He went on to share with my dad his theory of why it is Americans are overweight.  “I think you eat too many sauces.”

Fair point.  However, when I stopped into a gelato shop in Portland today, I developed another theory.  In Italy, one scoop of gelato is the size of a walnut.  In Portland, one scoop is the size of my fist.  This was not what I expected when I ordered two flavors.

Here’s a tip:  If the ice cream comes in smaller portions, you can try more flavors without giving yourself diabetes.

I’m thinking it’s not the sauces.

Portland is a great food town.  It’s a foodie paradise.  The best part of this, to me, is where the awesome food spills over into the streets.

Portland is a great food-cart town.

I eat at the Bombay Chaat House probably 3-4 times a week (each meal lasts two days).  I think it’s the best Indian food in town.  For the past six months or so, my Sunday ritual has included a trip to the two waffle cart locations in North Portland known as FLAVOUR spot.

This morning’s trip was with my ex-gf/roommate/best friend (don’t you love lesbians) Leigh, and my dog Libby.

These waffles are so powerful that the promise of a “maple pecan” waffle can rouse me from a dead sleep to fully dressed and hair done in about 5 minutes.

This morning there was no line, and we picked out a primo picnic table in the converted parking lot that houses the cart on Missisisppi Ave.

I’ve tried to capture the gooey, delicious nature of the waffle here for those who have never experienced it.

That’s maple butter and pecans folded lovingly into a fresh waffle.  Today’s special waffle was fresh strawberries, whipped cream and nutella.  Woah.

You come to Portland, you go to Flavour Spot.  Ya dig?

Today’s vocabulary word is “potente/i,” which means “powerful.”  the e ending is singular and the i ending is plural.

Here it is used in a sentence:

“Ciao!  Hai potenti mani. Posso comprare qualcosa da bere?”

Happy translating!

Since I’ve been back, I have started learning Italian.  I bought an old Berlitz book, and am working my way through “instant conversation in a taxi” and “forms of the verb essere,” but almost every day I  end up learning a fabulous new vocab word.

Each day I’ll post the best word I’ve learned and use it in a sentence.  You get to figure out what it means.  I promise it will be entertaining.  I suggest using Google translate or something similar.

Enjoy!

What?!

“We’ll take you voting now, if that’s alright.”

When I walked into the shop with the stools, I never imagined I’d end up in the house of a local political candidate, let alone going to vote with her.

“Yes, that’s alright!”

I’ve actually thought about taking vacations to be an international poll watcher.  Super-geeky political dork, I know.

The day started with visions of visiting the thermal caves of Bagni di Lucca.  When we found those closed, the local who had adopted me decided to take me to see her cousin.  It just so happened that her cousin was running for the city council.

Are you kidding me?  Could this be any cooler?!  No, no it could not.

After spending an hour in Sandra’s home with her lovely partner Deb and their super-cute dogs Hollywinter and Pimpa, I was ready to make camp in the garden and never leave.  If it wasn’t for the worst rainstorm in 30 years, I might have.

As it was, I had a lesson in local Italian politics, the voting process, and was leaving with sample ballots and voters guides tucked into my backpack.

As we walked out the door, Lara, my guide, picked up a political button for Sandra’s slate and handed it to me.  Of course, I proudly pinned it on and walked out ready to see democracy in action!

The next two hours were spent in two different precincts as Sandra and Deb cast their ballots.  Sandra’s mother came to vote for her daughter.  I nearly cried.  Lara showed me her middle school.  And, in a moment of panic, I was told that I would have to remove the political button or risk being arrested by the armed police that were monitoring the site.  Awesome!

Seriously, I could go to Italian jail for wearing a political button?  Yes, and also for the picture I almost took of Sandra casting her ballot.  Good to know!  I did manage to snap a picture of the chart they fill in to determine who has won.  It was divided by political party, precinct and gender of voters.

After voting we headed into Barga for a debrief in Sandra and Deb’s art gallery, where we talked about GLBT politics, religion and art, and the “can generation.”  When I left, these amazing women gave me art to take home.  Yes, in addition to being awesome political operatives, they’re also amazing artists.  I love Italy!

I headed home the next day and wore the button for a week.  Now it lives on the sun visor of my Prius – right next to the Obama button.