A PRESENT FROM PARMA

My friend Carol King has recently been to Parma and brought me this lovely soap perfumed with Parma violets:

It brought back the fragrance of Devon violets, which I wrote about some time ago, to me.

Carol also brought me a copy of her recently published book, which I am proud to own:

Have a nice evening, everybody - I'm off to have a luxurious bath!

SICILIANS' FAVOURITE SMELL

If I asked you what you think Sicilians' favourite smell is, what would you say? You might think it was the scent of jasmine or orange blossom wafting through the air at this time of year or one of these in perfume form. Or, talking of perfume, perhaps the island's women finish their toilette with a generous spray of Acqua di Parma's almond fragrance or D&G's Sicily.

Then again, maybe the way to a Sicilian's olfactory nerve is through the kitchen and you might imagine that the unmistakeable scent of vanilla as numerous pasticcerie set to work in the morning or the aroma of freshly prepared foccaccia, pizza or arancini in the evening would be at the top of every Sicilian's good smell list.

All of the above would make the list but I can tell you with certainty that none of them would top it: I recently  had to visit a non-medical establishment which had been spring-cleaned with particular vigour and everyone - man or woman - who came in while I was there stopped as they crossed the threshold, sniffed the air and declared joyfully, 

"Che bel profumo di pulizia!" ["What a beautiful smell of cleaning!"]

And that, dear reader, is Sicilians' favourite smell.  What's yours? Just for fun, do please vote in the poll in the sidebar. Thank you.

Image: WP Clipart

SOAP, NO WATER AND PAINS IN THE NECK

Autumn has come very suddenly to Sicily and as I write there is sheet lightning in the Scicli direction. We have now had two days of nasty storms and late last night there were some quite terrifying thunderclaps.

Everybody seems to be feeling low and all attribute their mood to the changeable weather, in particular the fact that nobody knows what to wear. Not a few are also suffering from the cervicale, a seasonal ailment if ever there was one.

I had been watching the women for signs of the cambio di stagione [seasonal wardrobe change]which is really indicated by what length of sleeve they are wearing but this year the change seems to have been forced upon us during the past few days. [Usually a kind of telepathic decision is taken by the women in unison so that they all appear nonchantly sporting their autumn finery on exactly the same day.]

Ironically, although there has been lots of water outside, there had been none inside for the 48 hours from 7 pm Tuesday to this evening: Yes, the water supply ran out again and this time I couldn't even call the Water Office to order a cistern refill as their phone is rotto [ = broken, which is, at least, a variation on their usual theme of "cut off for non-payment of bills"]. When I pleaded with our water lorry driver this morning, he agreed to deliver a tankful provided I go to the office to sign for the order tomorrow. You can imagine my relief when the lorry turned up at 11 am, but this, alas, was short-lived, as when I tried to turn the tap on, still nothing came out! Then my neighbour informed me that there was something wrong with the motor which should pump the cistern water around the building and as I left for work she was looking for an electrician. I arrived home at 8pm with stiff limbs and not much hope of a bath tonight but oh, joy of joys, the motor was pumping its little old heart out! Never was a wallow in bath foam more appreciated, reader.

This gloomy day has been brightened by two lovely and completely unexpected gifts: Cotognata [quince paste] from Lucia, who informed me in all seriousness that she "only" made 10 kilos of this delightful autumn preserve yesterday

and a jar of pretty, beautifully perfumed soaps from Rosa's daughter.





I think I'll have another bath!

DAILY DOINGS - 25

It's been a busy couple of weeks and I have started back in my old job at the English International School [where I taught before I was ill last year]. I must say it is pleasant seeing some of my old students again and meeting new ones. I took in some pictures of London to sort of welcome myself back and presented my boss with a dollop of blu-tack [unavailable here] to put them up with; what more could she desire?

Meanwhile, at home, and thanks to Marie-Laure and David for having suggested it, the computer shop man has set up Wifi for me so at long last I can listen to The Archers in every room! I don't know why it never occurred to me that that was the solution.... Rosa was laughing at me this afternoon as I purred with contentment at the mere thought of being able to listen to all my beloved Radio 4 voices as I laze the siesta hours away in my bedroom or lounge.

The kitchen has been a hive of activity too, as Irma wanted to see how I make that old standby of mine, the lemon semifreddo which is really Jennifer Paterson's "Suffolk Lemon Pudding" [from Seasonal Receipts]. If that sounds familiar to regular readers, it's because I have both made and mentioned it hundreds of times before, and the recipe has not let me down yet. Irma likes my instructions, which include this advice for turning the cake out: "Dip the base in hot water, take a deep breath, pray, then be brave - and quick!"

Over at Raffaele the hairdresser's there are all these new perfumes for his clients to play with:

They are mostly good imitations of famous scents and I decided it would be fun to spray one on top of the other until I got the right "note" [as I believe perfumers call it]. I'll probably never be able to create that particular mix again! Raffaele just looks on as if to humour me...

There was less fun for my other hairdresser, the one nearer home, yesterday, for , just as I was going out with Simi at lunchtime, an injured pigeon took refuge in our courtyard. The poor creature could hardly move, let alone fly, crashing in agony each time it tried. I didn't know how to help it and was wondering whom to call when Orazio appeared. When he said he'd see to it I wasn't quite sure what he would do but he went back into the salon and emerged with a box and a rather hesitant assistant behind him. Then he told me that he bred pigeons so could handle the situation and off Simi and I went. When we came back the bird was in the box and Orazio was trying to feed it some bread. Sadly, this morning he told me that the bird had died during the night but at least it was treated kindly during its final hours. Apparently the assistant, who had had to pick the pigeon up from under a car it had painfully reached, only admitted this morning that she is terrified of birds!

You can tell that it's autumn because the cotognata [quince paste] is in the shops, are as the fichi d'India or prickly pears. One of the nicest combinations I know is that of Asiago cheese and cotognata:

And the Altro Posto yet again wins the "Ice Cream of the Week" award, for being the first bar this year to include fichi d'India in its coppa di frutta e gelato:

I was going to finish there but I have to tell you that, much to my amazement, I have won Saretta's competition over at her blog! She had the brilliant idea of putting up a photo of a group of her international friends and her readers had to guess the nationality of each woman. No, I didn't guess correctly; it was a lot harder than you would imagine and we all got in a fine muddle trying to work it out by logic, so in the end Saretta pulled a name out of a hat! The prize is a guide to Apulia which Saretta has translated and I'm really looking forward to receiving it. Grazie in anticipo, Saretta.

PERFUME UPDATE

Many thanks to those of you who have voted in the poll on the right and if you haven’t voted and would like to, please do so.

James has responded with a whole post at Nourishing Obscurity and I thank him for taking the trouble to do so and for providing a man’s take on the issue.

A few years ago, back in Cardiff, I bumped into someone I’d taught twenty years previously and she told me :

“I’ve never forgotten what you said one day when one of us remarked that you wore too much perfume.”

“Oh, what was that?” I asked as I didn’t have the faintest idea what I might have said.

I did, however, recall that my perfume at that time was Charlie, one which, although it has been revamped, I feel too old to wear now. Charlie was the girl about town, who daringly strode to work in a trouser suit. Impeccably groomed, she was the sort of girl who gets her eyeliner on straight first time and you just knew she never made a mistake in her job. The perfume was meant to confirm that she was, nonetheless, entirely feminine.

"You said, ‘The day you can afford to use perfume as lavishly as me, I’ll argue with you.’ ”

I was astonished, reader, firstly that I had had such power of repartee as a young teacher and secondly that anyone should remember it. Such a remark would be deemed politically incorrect now and I’d probably be drummed out of the profession for drawing attention to pupils’ poverty or something [which had not been my intention – I was just trying to get on with my lesson!]

The girl continued, “So I decided I wanted to earn enough money to use perfume the way you did and now I do.”

DAILY DOINGS - 21

Recently I nearly came to blows with a friend over the matter of perfume. I was both surprised and upset by what this person said, which was, basically, that he liked people's "natural" smell and preferred women to wear no perfume at all. I was surprised because it had never occurred to me that any woman would go out - or stay in, for that matter - without putting perfume on, and upset because I drown myself in YSL Paris every day and it's as much a part of me as my make-up and clothes. I've always regarded perfume as essential and have been proud of wearing a scent that has become my "signature" one. My friend pointed out that some people may not like it, to which my response was that they could stay away from me, then, though I did take his point about allergies. But heavens above, as an asthmatic I suffer from enough allergies myself and I don't think a good perfume can be classed with something positively harmful, like the odour of tobacco smoke. Anyway, I'd be grateful, dear readers, if you would take a minute to do the poll in the sidebar, as I'll be interested to learn what you think.

Now to a different sort of odour and not a pleasant one. This is what the area around all the communal rubbish containers in our otherwise lovely, Baroque city looks like at the moment and the smell pervades the whole town:

Yes, the Comune has run out of money again, so the refuse collectors have not been paid! The Comune has also once more had all its phones cut off for non-payment of the bills. I therefore deduce that the next time I try to order water for the condominio I will be told that the service is sospeso. All this always seems to happen in summer; a nice welcome for the tourists, don't you think?

When I'm not avoiding the stink of piled-up rubbish bags I am attempting to restock my summer wardrobe. Regular readers will remember that, since becoming ill in October, I have lost a lot of weight and have had to chuck most of my clothes out. Even the things I had altered don't fit now. Something like a summer wardrobe is beginning to come together: yesterday I went out to buy a pair of jeans but came back with the kaftan you see on the bed and today I was spurred on by the offer of a beach chair if I spent 80 euros in the same shop, a task which I accomplished with no difficulty! [I'll show you the chair when I figure out how to put it together.] Now I need some shoes to go with this lot!

Talking of fashion, I wonder what you all think about jewellery? I am of the opinion that the right piece of costume jewellery can "make" an outfit and have been known to buy a brooch or necklace first and then get an outfit to set it off! But I also believe you can wear too much of the stuff, a view not shared by the majority of Italian women, who pile it on. Chanel famously advised,

"Look in the mirror before you leave the house - and take one thing off!"

That's fine with me as long as that one thing isn't my pefume!

OF WATER AND WIRES

The condominio's water supply ran out once more early this morning. "Oh, no!" I thought. "They'll all blame me again." But actually I had remembered to phone on Friday to request a refill and had been hoping that it would arrive yesterday. I decided I was going to have to call the comune office before lunchtime and beg them to come today, but at midday I was out with Simi and, from the far end of the main road, saw the water lorry turn into our side-street. I knew no one else was in at the condominio and the lorry obviously can't get in until someone opens the barrier across our courtyard, so Simi and I dashed back [she wasn't very impressed as she was in mid-poo and here was her mummy yelling, "Hurry up! Haven't got time now!" - I do pick it up, by the way, so there was that to be done too] but she entered into the spirit of the occasion once we got into our street: imagine, reader, the madwoman and her dog running up the street, me shouting "Signore! Aspetti! - Wait!" as the lorry prepared its escape and Simi barking joyfully. Anyway, we arrived at the barrier, opened it and forestalled the getaway so now we have water for another 10 days. The thing I hate most about these waterless mornings is the waste of perfume: I never go anywhere - indeed I never stay in - without drenching myself in Paris [a scent which lasts on me] and of course I'm straight into the shower once the water is back on. I resent that waste of the first spraying - do you think I could get perfume compensation payments from the comune?

Now, gentlemen look away for a moment: Girls, it is time to revisit the intimi shop! One of my Italian black number bras has given up the ghost- you know that moment when everything seems to be defying gravity to your satisfaction and all of a sudden - boyng....!! .. and there is part of the underwiring inelegantly protruding where your cleavage is meant to be? You push it back down but it boyngs again and you fear it will sock you in the eye before long. Well, that's what happened to me today so it's yet another trip to one of those stores tomorrow!

ORANGE BLOSSOM SQUARE

That is the name I have conferred upon the piazzetta around the corner. It is a peaceful, shady haven from the scorching summer sun and, at this time of year, the scent from its orange blossom hedges is quite heady as you pass.

My "signature" perfume is YSL Paris and I spray it on lavishly every day, but sometimes if I'm relaxing at home or just before going to bed I'll dab on some Zagara [orange blossom] di Sicilia cologne. [Zagara comes from Arabic zahar = blossom.] This cologne is mostly sold in souvenir shops here nowadays. It is a very refreshing , zingy fragrance and I have never been able to buy anything like it in the UK.