Thursday, July 24, 2008

THURSDAY IN SICILY


It’s a funny sort of day, Thursday: not at the beginning of the week, like Monday, when we all feel justified in grumbling about returning to work, not like Tuesday, when we can at least convince ourselves that we are getting into the swing of things; and certainly not like Wednesday, when we can congratulate ourselves on getting half-way through the week. And, of course, it cannot compete with Friday, when everybody is demob-happy. No, none of these; just Thursday, stuck where it is.

Even the name, in English, sounds dull: “Thor’s Day”, making one imagine bad weather. At least the Romance languages have named it after Jupiter or Jove, the chief deity , which sounds more exciting.

Perhaps it is the thought of distant rumbles of thunder that caused me to associate Thursdays with unlucky events: I was a bit of a goody-goody at school, you see, and got told off at primary school for the very first time on a Thursday! When I was younger still, Thursday was Rag, Tag and Bobtail day on the BBC’s Watch with Mother ; now, no offence to those dear rabbits, but they were rather boring! On a Monday you could get irritated at being patronised by Patricia Driscoll and her endless Picture Book and on Fridays there were the delightful Woodentops [just like The Archers, but for children, really!]

So what, then, of Thursdays in Sicily? Sackerson observed in the comments the other day that we have a “hard life” down here in Sicily and I can see that some of you may think I have the “life of Riley”: yet my life, and James’s, are difficult in ways that many of you may not imagine, for who among us can really envisage another person’s day to day life?

Well, Thursday being Thursday, I did a job I have been putting off for some time and wrote to a UK banking institution. [I am in deep sympathy with Posh Totty here.] Then, as antidote to this horrible task, James and I meandred to the Altro Posto, where we had the delicious fruit and ice cream you see above.

Later, my 4 pm student did not turn up. [No, I do not get paid for the waiting time!] James waited with me till 4.30 , then we wandered back home, just having to stop at yet another bar on the way for some refreshing cold tea with granita.

A hard life, indeed!

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

INVOLTINI CON ZUCCHINI


Found these oven-ready at the butcher's this morning and they looked so pretty that I just had to try them! [Tomatoes neatly stuffed with minced pork, topped with zucchini and tiny cherry tomatoes.]

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

AL DI LA

Emilio Pericoli was, I believe, the first Italian popular singer I ever heard, long before I studied Italian or realised that the country would become the love of my life and teaching the language [along with French] my means of making a living for so long!

I still have some 45 rpm records and a vinyl LP of Pericoli and I thought he was so handsome and sophisticated. I used to imagine him zooming around Rome on a Vespa in those innocent days, before tourists had to watch out for bag-snatchers and pickpockets in every crowded location. Yes, as a follow-up to last night's post, I do have to say that there are places where you have to be careful here, too, just as you would in big cities anywhere in the world.

But enough of that. Here, for your enjoyment, is Emilio:

Monday, July 21, 2008

UNHAPPY HOUR

Proposals in the UK to ban or curb "happy hour" alcohol sales are being reported with some surprise in Italy: first there is an explanation of what the "happy hour" actually is and this is followed by statistics on the behaviour of alcohol-fuelled British youth which would dismay any Italian parent thinking of allowing their offspring to visit our country.
Incidentally, the one negative aspect of the UK mentioned by one of Marco's sons [just back from a long stay there] at yesterday's lunch was that he felt threatened by crowds of hostile youths in city centres in Britain during the evenings. What a testimonial for us!
It may not seem so, but most Italians drink very little, limiting themselves to a glass or two of good wine at lunchtime [maybe a little more on a Sunday or feast day, when they don't have to drive afterwards or go to work the next morning] and spirits are rarely drunk, except for a tot of the homemade limoncello at the end of a long, leisurely repast. [However, see here for evidence that this is not always the case.]
Being very much a g & t girl myself, I am hardly in a position to pontificate, but I don't drive and what Mutley calls my "terrifying liqueurs" are rationed for home use these days!

Sunday, July 20, 2008

VICINO AL MARE


I am not a morning person at all but was delighted when the phone rang at 9.30 am today and my friend Giovanna invited James and me to spend the day with her and her family at their seaside house.

Newer readers may like to know that Giovanna, her husband Marco and the two boys they then had [aged about ten and eight at the time] were the first Modicani I ever met: I have stayed with them all many times and they let me live rent-free in a little house of theirs in Modica Bassa whilst I was sorting myself out after moving here permanently in 2005. So I owe them a great deal. Now there are four boys and the elder two have grown into fine young men.

After the phone call it was all rush, as I hadn't yet showered, got my war paint on [let alone my clothes] or taken Simi out. I accomplished the lot within 45 minutes, informed poor James, just as he returned from his "morning constitutional" [which he relies upon to recharge his batteries - shush!] about the intended outing and by 10.30 we were on our way to the Marina di Modica.

Today the Mediterranean was at its deepest blue, with the waves turning purple as they neared the jagged rocks of the stunningly beautiful shore.

At 1pm precisely, like all good Italians, back we went to Giovanna and Marco's for lunch: there was pasta with prawns and zucchini, polpettine di melanzane [aubergine fritters] with cheese-topped tomatoes followed by cotolette di pollo [chicken cutlets] then Giovanna's fresh fruit salad for dessert, served with lemon ice cream and peach granita.






James then had a snooze on the balcony whilst I reminisced with the family until about 4pm, when we were served dishes of the freshest gelsi [mulberries] with cream.

Un bel giorno al mare!

Saturday, July 19, 2008

DAILY DOINGS - 13

This morning a letter arrived by recorded delivery: I opened it to discover that I am "invited" to pay 25 euros to the Azienda Sanitaria for the visit I made to Casualty [ER] in May. It is normal to pay for such a visit here and you also have to pay a nominal sum for outpatient appointments. I should point out that there would be no question of paying a fee if you were rushed to Casualty following an accident or other emergency and / or were subsequently admitted. I have no objection to paying this charge as I am grateful to be covered by the Italian health service at all, but I do wonder how much money is being spent on sending all such letters out by recorded delivery.

On my way out today I did the very thing that drives me crazy when I see the Italians doing it: I queue-jumped, reader! Yes, I ignored the ticket system in the post office and marched up to the counter to ask for a form for a recorded delivery letter of my own. This was duly handed to me despite the customer already at the counter, the notices about respecting customer privacy and all the people sitting waiting for their number to appear on the display boards. No one batted an eyelid but the Brit in me felt ashamed!

As I write, we are waiting for the water lorry yet again. I phoned the Comune to order a refill on Wednesday and I'm sure we are about to run out.

Saturdays seem to be Caffè Consorzio day, so yet another relaxing lunch was enjoyed there: interesting antipasti, a salad of radicchio, rocket, pear and grana cheese plus this beautifully presented ice cream:







Finally, there are worse places to be on a Saturday afternoon than sitting under a palm tree waiting for a friend. [A shame about the graffiti but you can't have everything.]


Friday, July 18, 2008

SICILY QUIZ - 5

Last night's photo was taken on the road between Modica and Ragusa.

Now to tonight's quiz:

C Second city of Sicily

A Bitter - - - - - - - , book about the making of Sicilian pastries by Mary Taylor Simeti and Maria Grammatico.

T We live in fear of one of these: un - - - - - - - - - .

A Costanza d' - - - - - - - - - , daughter of Roger 11 of Sicily, later Queen of Sicily and Empress.

N City in south-east Sicily almost totally destroyed in the 1693 earthquake.

I Ancient Himera.

A Piazza - - - - - - - - , hilltop town south of Enna famous for its Roman mosaics.

Highlight below for answers:

Catania; Almonds; terremoto; Altavilla; Noto; Imera; Armerina.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

WHERE IN SICILY? - 4


A more difficult one for you tonight!

As it's the 17th of the month, an unlucky day for superstitious Italians, I'll be kind and give you a clue: it's on the road between Modica and - - - - - - [not too far away].

Answer on tomorrow's post.

CULTURAL FROGS - ADDENDUM

Strangely enough, thinking back to Sunday's post, a similar thing happened today in class: we were dealing with before/after + - ing clauses and the last one in the exercise was:
Remember to lock the door / put the rubbish out
which had to be transformed into "Remember to lock the door after putting the rubbish out."

The problem here is that, even after helping the student to deal with the phrasal verb "put out" in this context and the fact that the object comes between verb and preposition, a student from here still has no concept of the meaning as no one "puts their rubbish out" [as in a bin, provided by your local council and which you place outside your door or gate once a week or fortnight in the UK]. Here, you carry your rubbish along to conveniently placed communal bins. No one has to walk far to do this and recycling bins are conveniently located, too.

So "cultural leaping" can be on a very mundane level!

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

ONLY IN ITALY - 3


And only in Sicily, I suspect, could there be a festino to celebrate saving and austerity, with the main float bearing a statue of Santa Rosalia resting upon a bed of 30, 000 roses [minus their thorns - the lady had to be comfortable]. The second float was decorated with Swarovski crystals and there was also a fine fireworks display. This all happened in Palermo yesterday.

All was not entirely peaceful, however, as there were some anti-mayoral demonstrations and some protests by groups representing the homeless.

Viva l'austerità!

Monday, July 14, 2008

BAREFACED SIGHS

You don’t know how much you have needed a facial, ladies, until you have had one!

At the weekend I was explaining to James some of the complications of being a woman , particularly in summer [not that I really think that he, being a man of the world, needs instruction from me!] It’s just that women spend the summer worrying about the constant depilation problem, whether parts of us look bronzed enough to be shown in any circumstances [and some put themselves at tremendous risk over this] and of course, a girl dare not step outside without checking the shade of varnish on her toenails. I was also trying to get him to see [well, not “see” literally – I mean “understand” ] that all this takes logistics: I mean, it is best, is it not, if varnishing your toenails first thing in the morning, to have donned certain items of underwear first?

I had decided on Friday that I could no longer wait for the following:
a waxing job on my jawline
a pedicure
a full facial
an eyebrow shaping

There are many beauty salons here - in fact I can think of six within walking distance – but in Modica as in the UK, many will not wax part of your face and do a facial treatment on the same day. I appreciate the reasons why but I do not want to walk home in the hot sun after a facial waxing treatment and it is an extra bother to go back a day later for the facial itself.

It so happens that Raffaele the hairdresser has a new manicurist who will come to the house to carry out more complex procedures, so I’d made an appointment for today. In two and a half hours and for forty euros I had all the above treatments carried out, efficiently, calmly and painlessly. [She did ask, as every beautician I have ever visited has, “Why do you need the jawline done? There is nothing there!” I replied, as ever, “I know there’s some hair there and you can see it in certain lighting.”] Simi, I hasten to add, was a very good doggie-girl whilst observing all this!

Oh, there is nothing like having your feet “done”, reader, and the sensation is topped only by the way your make-up just glides on after a facial! So I am sitting here thinking that if all this can make me feel so much better, and I can only afford such an indulgence occasionally, how wonderful you must feel if you can have such treatments every day! No wonder the rich and famous [usually] look so good, even allowing for airbrushing! No, I am not fool enough to imagine that even those who claim they have had “no knife” look that brilliant on cosmetics alone and it is one of the tragedies of our era that women, because of the images pushed at them all the time, will subject themselves to invasive and non-essential surgery because of this eternal quest for youthful looks. [This is to the older woman, perhaps, what thinness is to her younger counterpart.]

But I have digressed: I will say again that I now feel better and, dear gentlemen readers, I am sorry if I have bored you but at least you now know that a woman always needs to get her knickers on before varnishing her toenails!

Sunday, July 13, 2008

CULTURAL FROGS

As a language teacher, I am often asked what is the “best” method of learning a foreign language and, as someone who went through 23 years of changes in the accepted view in the British state school system, I have to say that there is no one failsafe method: you have to combine several , keep an open mind and be able to make connections between different languages.

What will not work, in my opinion , are these so-called “this is how to train your memory” methods that are pedalled so often: you know the sort of thing? “Bicyclette is French for bicycle. So picture a great big B in a child’s drawing book, then a great big C and then think of your children begging you to ‘Let me ride it, mummy!' ” What an extraordinary process and how doomed to failure it is! Why not just focus on “bi” indicating two of something and the similarities between English and French? With this sort of approach, whatever is going to happen to you when it comes to grammar?!

And you need grammar – yes, you do! All right, we can teach you to book into the ubiquitous imaginary campsite [as ubiquitous and irrelevant in GCSE oral exams as bulls in French fields were in the written exams of my youth] in as many languages as you like, but it won’t help you if and when things go wrong! Modern foreign languages teachers were not helped, during the reforming 70s and 80s, by English departments that refused to teach grammar [though this was partially put to rights by the National Curriculum in Britain] . “Verbs”, said my own first teacher of French , “are the backbone of the language.” You also need what I like to call grammar patterns, by which I mean that you should acquire the ability to adapt the language you know.

I repeat: ADAPT THE LANGUAGE YOU KNOW. Do not, especially in an exam, try to use unpractised vocabulary or structures, because you risk using them wrongly. In fact, try to use new vocabulary or grammar in sentences as you learn and then let your teacher advise you on appropriate usage.

This brings me to another point: Which is best? In situ or in the classroom? I have to say that you need a mixture of both. Of course you can “pick up” language quickly if you are in the country where it is spoken, but you may be picking up inappropriate registers [using the wrong kind of language for a given situation, an easy example being the minefield of “you” forms in the Romance languages and others] or end up using slang [which I would advise a foreign learner never to do, as it dates so quickly]. Wherever you are, there is always a place for time with a good tutor and some formal instruction.

Never forget, when learning another language, to use a skill which we automatically employ with regard to our own and that is your PREDICTION SKILL. When we listen to someone speaking our mother tongue, we “switch off” our auditory programme and think about something else far more often than we imagine, simply because we are confident and we can guess what filled the gaps. In the learned foreign language, we can’t afford to switch off, but we can put our prediction skills to good use by simply asking ourselves, “What is he / she likely to be saying?” After all, if you walk down the street, meet your best friend and remark, “Lovely weather, isn’t it?”, he / she is hardly going to reply, “I’m worried about the NASDAQ”!

Let go, also, of the idea that you have to understand everything whilst reading or listening: you don’t. Usually it is enough to get the gist and be able to reply in some way. Again, this is largely what we do in our own language.

Do realise that no one is perfect, even in their mother tongue: if they were, and if everyone knew every word, crossword compilers and language game show hosts would not have their jobs, would they? So accept that language is a living thing; it will never stop changing and you will never stop learning. That’s what makes it exciting!

Accept that THINGS ARE EXPRESSED IN A DIFFERENT WAY BUT MEAN THE SAME and you are half-way there. Otherwise you risk speaking the language in a non-idiomatic manner. [This, by the way, is the problem with those online translator things.] And accept that sometimes, just as in English, there is no explanation for the way in which something is expressed: it just is!

Last but certainly not least, try to be a CULTURAL FROG: Recently, during oral exam practice [the exercise was from an actual past paper] , I asked a student of mine what companies could do to relieve employee stress. “Nothing”, he replied. “There is no stress in Sicily.” Now, whether that is true or not is another matter, but his answer hardly helps the oral examiner to ask a follow-up question, does it? “Well,” I went on, “in some UK companies the management has set up a gym for the employees to use at lunchtime. What do you think about that?” “That’s stupid”, replied the student, “because we all go home to our families at lunchtime.” Obviously, the student who at least attempts to make the cultural leap by trying to visualise what life might be like in the target language country will do a lot better here, for a little imagination is always necessary; it is not possible, you see, to divorce the learning of the language from some knowledge of the culture.

So be open, give due attention to grammar , accept that some things are just so, be aware of the the subtleties of register and be a cultural frog whenever you can!

Here endeth Welshcakes Limoncello’s language learning sermon for this Sunday evening.

Saturday, July 12, 2008

CAFFE DELLA NOSTALGIA






A wonderful lunch at the Caffè Consorzio again today and without further ado, I will tell you about the food: a very welcome plate of prettily displayed antipasti, polpettine di salsiccia [most delicately cooked] with patatae al forno and, to finish, this delectable dish of artistically presented fruit and ice cream.

They must have known we were coming today, for the music that wafted across to us, ensconced as we were in the shade of our favourite olive tree, consisted of British hits of the late 1950s and early 60s. As I sat there, watching white butterflies darting in and out of the lavender bushes I pondered upon the passage of time. Later I got some of my vinyl discs out and reflected that one minute you are 12 or 13, listening to these records [as we used to call them] with your life, hopes and dreams ahead of you; in the twinkling of an eye, it seems, you are nearly 60 and there you are listening again and really feeling no different in your heart of hearts. And that, my Dad used to say, is the great secret of growing old.

Friday, July 11, 2008

SICILY QUIZ - 4

Last night's picture was of a traditional basket-maker who plies his trade on the steps of the Duomo di San Pietro, here in Modica. Both tourists and locals love him.

Now to tonight's quiz and the first question is not a give-away as usual!

M Sicilian port of embarcation for mainland Italy.

I Small island and nature reserve near Taormina.

L Lemon-flavoured liqueur.

A This blogger's favourite bar [minus article for the grammaticians among you!]

Z Sicilian dessert wine.

Z Summer resort on Etna Nord.

O The only herb [very popular in Sicily] which is best used in its dried form.

Highlight below for answers:

Messina; Isola Bella; limoncello; L' Altro Posto; Zibibbo / Zibobbo ; Zafferana Etnea; origano

Thursday, July 10, 2008

WHERE IN SICILY? - 3


Those who have been following the blog from the beginning may remember!
Answer on tomorrow's post.

PLUM CRAZY


You have got to be plum crazy to make chutney during July in Sicily, in 36 C., but that's what I did this afternoon, dear reader. I just had to use up the plums my kind neighbour had given me, so decided the quickest way of doing so was to prepare plum and ginger chutney. [Root ginger, by the way, is quite difficult to find here, so when I do see some on sale, I buy it and freeze it.] For my North American readers and others new to the word, "chutney" is a corruption of Hindi chatni, meaning "strongly spiced". The best way that I can describe chutney is that it is a kind of salsa, only thicker and it keeps for a long time. The British in India invented it as a way of preserving the exotic fruits and using the spices they found there. We eat it with cheese and cold meats. It is quite useless trying to serve chutney to the Sicilians for, as I've mentioned previously, they do not understand how we can mix sweet and sour tastes and many have an aversion to dried fruits.

Whilst I was at it, I also got around to bottling my plum liqueur. I must say I am pleased with its colour and aroma, but it cannot be drunk for at least another month! Tomorrow will be a day for putting the lids on the cooled chutney and placing little gingham "hats" on top of these....

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

OF CISTERNS, WATER CARRIERS AND POST OFFICES

Imagine my despair when the water appeared to be off yet again this morning [after the 35 euros I’d paid for a lorry load last week!] I just about managed to eke out enough for a shower before it dried up completely, then, on my way out, saw that there were two men working down in the cistern area. One of my mottos is, “When men are working, leave them alone”, so I did. They were, in fact, putting the leak in the tank to rights by replacing the whole thing and I rejoiced about that, but I did wonder how much precious water might be lost in the process. Anyway, upon my return, the water was gleefully gushing from all the taps in the apartment and at the time of writing we still have some.

Earlier I saw my kind and gentle neighbour the “water carrier” and he asked me how I was off for mineral water. [James has been carrying packs of six up the road whenever he can, but this is onerous in the heat, obviously.] The neighbour has just kindly brought us four packs and I am very grateful for this thoughtfulness.

Today I could put it off no longer; a visit to the dreaded post office was necessary. As the place was packed when I went past with Simi on our walk this morning, I decided to try my luck at around 2.30 pm ., when most people have started their siesta: This time, the only seat I could find was not next to one, but between two old souls who were fascinated by the changing numbers on the display board, so I have bruises from being nudged on both sides of my ribcage every time these changed, reader. Another little old lady was darting, at amazing speed, from one counter to the other, insisting on drawing her pension right there and then. Each time her son, who could hardly keep up with her, managed to convince her that she had to wait her turn and gently persuade her to sit down again. No doubt the lady could remember better days.

All of life is here in this very street, dear reader!

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

PAN BAGNA





"You bought too much bread!" cried James at the weekend, as I was beginning the preparation of this dish. "Ah, but I have plans for the rest," said I.

Pan bagnat is originally a recipe of Nice and, in that part of the world, is understood to be a salade niçoise on hollowed-out bread. Historically, the process was reversed as the peasants used to put slices of rough-textured bread into the salad to soak up the juices and, one suspects, make it go further. Versions of pan bagnat / pan bagna are made all over the Mediterranean region but the only cookery writer I have read who suggests reusing the breadcrumbs in the filling is Elizabeth David. I like to do this and here is my own, Italianised recipe:

Cut day-old bread [a baguette or smaller crusty rolls] in half lengthwise. Scrape out the crumbs as best you can and put them aside. Make a vinaigrette from 6 tablespoons of olive oil, 3 tablespoons of white wine vinegar, some oregano and seasoning. Brush this generously onto the bottom part of the bread shells. Spread some crema bel paese [or similar soft cheese] on top of this and put some salad leaves on top of that. Then add some sliced tomatoes. Put the breadcrumbs in a procesor with a clove of garlic, a medium onion, some carrots, a red pepper, a couple of sticks of celery and a few stoned, black olives. Process until everything is very finely chopped. Put this mixture on top of the layers on the bread and drizzle over any remaining vinaigrette. Put the lids on the bread and wrap in foil. Refrigerate overnight or for at least 4 hours. [Recipes state that you should put a weight on top but I have never found this necessary.] Serve and enjoy, having armed everyone with plenty of napkins, for this is a very oily sandwich!

Monday, July 07, 2008

SICILIAN IDENTITY

According to this Demopolis poll, the majority [77%] of Sicilians are proud of their heritage but, whilst recognising the economic problems of the region, are dissatisfied with the standard of living and with services on the island, above all public transport.
When asked the "eternal question" - "Would you leave?" - most [61%] said they would wish to remain here, whilst 22% said that they would consider living in another part of Italy. Only 17% of those interviewed stated that they would consider living abroad. [What a contrast to Brits!]
It appears that there is a specific Sicilian identity, as the majority of those polled [54%] would declare themselves "Sicilian" before European or even Italian. Interestingly, this figure increases in inverse proportion to educational levels. More women than men would also declare themselves as primarily "Sicilian".
When asked what they believe to be the defining characteristics of Sicilians, 71% put hospitality at number one. In second place comes disdain for rules, regulations and institutions.
Well done, the Sicilians!

ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER ICE CREAM


Especially for nunyaa, who likes them so much.

Saturday, July 05, 2008

SATURDAY LUNCH






A lovely, leisurely, lazy lunch at the Caffè Consorzio today: antipasti, veal fillet with patate al forno and a glass of ice cream decorated with the juiciest plums and bay leaves picked fresh from the tree. Cincin and buona domenica a tutti.

Friday, July 04, 2008

SICILY QUIZ - 3

First of all, the answer to last night's picture question: it is the watchtower at the nature reserve of Vendicari.

Now to tonight's quiz: some incredibly easy and some fiendishly difficult questions for you this time [maybe]:

R Town and province whose patron saint, like that of Modica, is San Giorgio.
- - - - - -

A Prefix to the name of a number of Sicilian Baroque towns taking their name from Acis in Greek mythology. - - -

G Dialect word for a kind of sesame seed brittle made at Xmas.
- - - - - - - - - - - - [Help is here.]

U Volcanic island 36 km north-west of Palermo. - - - - - -

S Famous occasion in 1282 when a French officer insulted a Sicilian bride. This resulted in the massacre of the French garrison.
- - - - - - - - Vespers.

A Greek mathematician and scientist who "found it" in Siracusa.
- - - - - - - - - -

Highlight below for answers:

Ragusa; Aci; ghigghiulena; Ustica; Sicilian; Archimedes

Thursday, July 03, 2008

Wednesday, July 02, 2008

UN COMPROMESSO STORICO


I made this Stromboli bread for us both today and, remembering that James is not as enamoured as I am of coarse Sicilian seasalt, came up with this compromise - "his half and my half".

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

AND NOW THE DOWNSIDE...



Regular readers will know that this has to be about the Post Office or the water supply and today it's the latter that has driven me to distraction:

Our water ran out at around 11 am but at least we had both had showers and a main wash had gone through the machine. I wasn't too worried, as I had ordered a cistern refill yesterday, but by 5 pm, with a lot of cooking ahead of me, I was beginning to fret.

First I called the usually sympathetic driver, as he will normally bring a tankful a day or so early provided you have made the request to the Water Office. Today, however, he did not seem pleased to hear from me [to put it mildly] and claimed that the last time he had done this [a week ago last Sunday] he had subsequently found out that I hadn't put in the request! [I am not completely mad, reader, and I do know that I had!] So he rather gruffly stated that he could not possibly help me today, as he had no bolleta [authorisation] in his hand.

Next, I went to see the only fellow-tenant in residence at the moment, the lady upstairs. She was almost as upset by the situation as I was, but declared that she is off to her property at the sea tomorrow, so was unwilling to pay a private water carrier.

I then called our capo-condominio [tenant in charge of administrative matters] who, although away in the country until October, had left me her number for just such a purpose. "Ah, signora, there's a problem with the motore in the cistern - that's why the water is running out so quickly", she explained. [Why did I have a sense of "Been here before?"] "I will call the landlords, to see if they have had it fixed. Otherwise there is no point in your calling a private water carrier as the water will just leak out. I'll let you know." This was at 5pm. By 8 pm, I was sitting here suffering from a "Sicilian summer tummy" problem and worrying about the loo arrangements for the night, so decided to call the private water carrier anyway [thinking that if I left it much later he would not come].

No sooner had I made the call, than the capo-condominio was back on the phone, informing me that she had just called the original water carrier to ask him to deliver on a paying basis, which he had agreed to do, but not until tomorrow morning. [The carrier I had called promised to deliver within the hour.] She was not happy when I confessed that I had called the other one and I think I have offended her Sicilian sense of honour: "Signora, why did you call me, then? When I take it upon myself to do something , I do it. Why do you not trust me?" I pleaded desperation, a stomach problem and the fact that it was already past 8pm but it took a lot to mollify her! [James listened to all this and seemed amazed.] Finally I was all apologised-out and the lady very kindly offered to call the first water carrier to cancel the delivery [an offer which I readily accepted].

Not a full minute had passed before we heard the chug-chug-chug of the private water lorry making its way up the street and I dashed down to open up and greet the driver. I am now 35 euros poorer - and it would have been 42 had I insisted upon a receipt - but we have water for the time being and I have only managed to offend 3 people in the process of obtaining it [the capo-condominio, the comune driver and the second driver, for refusing his receipt!]

Monday, June 30, 2008

LITTLE COURTESIES OF SICILY

Walking back from work with shopping in 37 C this evening, I must have paused a couple of times on the "home stretch". "Signora, it's heavy and I will carry it for you", uttered a familiar voice behind me and before I could reply a male neighbour had relieved me of my bags, raced up the road with them and deposited them at the entry door to the condominio. I not only reflected that this has never happened to me in the UK, but started thinking about the other "little courtesies" that I encounter during my daily life in Sicily:

When you enter Raffaele the hairdresser's, for instance, you are invited to "sit down and rest yourself" whilst you are served a refreshing cold drink; only when they consider that you have recovered a little from the heat outside would they dream of starting your shampooing process and that's fine with me! When I first started this blog and had few readers I also mentioned that, during that first, stifling summer when I was in the little house in Modica Bassa, I had come up to Raff's for my hairdo and he instructed one of his staff to drive me back, as he didn't want me waiting for a bus in the heat. His thoughtfulness at that time is something that I always remember at this stage in the year.

Recently, at the Altro Posto, Giorgio the manager has been filling up my ice bag for me almost daily so that I can put it on my ankle at work and get through the afternoons reasonably comfortably. I wouldn't even dare to ask in a UK bar but here you are assured it is no trouble at all.

Then there is the other helpful neighbour who always asks if I need some packs of mineral water and brings them regularly. Believe me, when you don't have transport, such a gesture is really appreciated! [In such a case, it is not so much that people in the UK would not help you if they realised; it is , rather, that sometimes those who have transport simply cannot visualise that being without it can be a problem .]

Last week I told my neighbour upstairs that I have a British friend staying with me and she immediately offered to drive us around to all the nearby beach locations so that we can take photos, enjoy them and, of course, blog about them. And we shall go, reader, just as soon as the weather cools a little.

At the deli down the road Mr T.... is always concerned that the carrier bags into which he loads my purchases are comodi [comfortable] and he stretches the handles to make them so. If I've bought a bottle of olive oil, he gets very worried and double-warns me each time not to just dump the bags on the tiled floor in relief when I arrive home, thus breaking the container of the precious substance. [Sometimes I think Mr T.... would make rather a good psychologist!]

When James's missing suitcase finally arrived in Modica after a fortnight, the student whom I was teaching when I got the phone call from the carrier didn't hesitate to offer help. "Let's go now and meet the carrier in my car - we can't take chances." There was no comeback from either her or my boss later. Human needs at that time prevailed.

Of my long-term friends here I have written often and gratefully: they know I could never have managed without them and, as I approach the third anniversary of the day I moved into this apartment, I recall the summer of 2005 and all the help they unstintingly offered me. I thank them now, as then, from the bottom of my heart.

Sunday, June 29, 2008

IN A SICILIAN COURTYARD ...













... this afternoon 15 or so fortunate people were served a sumptuous feast worthy of the Prince of Salina himself. James and I were lucky enough to have been invited by the hostess, my dear friend Annunziata.

Let me describe the atmosphere: as we arrive, at around 11.30 am., we see a table covered in white linen set up in a cool courtyard area. Grandchildren are there, crawling along the tablecloth towards us and demanding cuddles from these new visitors. We happily oblige and no one worries about the state of the tablecloth subsequently! Then our host offers us a walk around the outside of the property and off we go, grandchild insisting on holding the hands of her newly found zia and zio. Unfortunately I cannot complete the circuit due to my ankle problem, but no one minds when I amble back to the little courtyard on my own. Other guests have arrived during this interval and all greet me, and James, too, when he returns from his expedition; some wander straight outside again, where they enjoy the rolling countryside before us, whilst the women tend to gather in the kitchen, each offering advice about the dishes which are now being cooked in earnest. The aroma from these now makes us both so hungry that we nearly collapse!

Finally, at 1.30 pm., we are all gathered a tavola and the main dishes are triumphantly brought in: there is pollo ripieno [ a famous Sicilian dish of boned chicken stuffed with minced chicken, veal, pork, pecorino cheese and all sorts of other wonderful flavourings], a dish of beautifully cooked rice and a salad of home-grown, organic greens. Just as we feel replete, our hostess brings two dishes of bollito [boiled, mixed meats in a tomato sauce] "just to soak up the rest of the rice", she says. It tastes of lovingly prepared food, of long-ago days when you felt cherished and looked after, and, above all, of homeliness in the best sense of the word.

A little pause ensues whilst we sup the wine that tastes of Sicily and the sun and then out come the dolci [sweet dishes] that we have all brought, among them what I can best describe as Sicilian nut clusters, called brutte ma buone ["ugly but beautiful"]. I must say I found nothing ugly in them and they certainly had a beautiful taste!

Just as poor James was thinking, "This must be the end" [for we had had coffee by now] there appeared dishes of the sweetest apricots either of us had ever partaken of anywhere, a similar dish of plums and mounds of the juiciest watermelon you ever saw!

Even I was thinking, "This must be the end" at this point, but a final delight came in the form of "Giovanella's cake" and I have to tell you it was quite a cake; its deliciousness remains with me as I write.

Oh - I almost forgot! The dessert wine served was an excellent moscato di Noto, which partnered the lovely Sicilian almonds perfectly. James turned out to be very partial to both!

The most amusing part of the day for me - the antics of the grandchildren apart - was our host's demonstration of how votes are counted in Sicily [for the run-off vote between left and right mayoral candidates takes place in Modica today and tomorrow]: "Well", said he, throwing a slice of bread onto a plate, "that's 2 votes". [Another slice then landed on the plate.] "That's 6 and if you turn your back for a moment that's 8!" I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions, reader, but maybe there's veritas in the old Moscato!

Saturday, June 28, 2008

VOLENTIERI!

Oh, I will, Patrizio, I will!

Buon fine di settimana a tutti.

PATRIZIO BUANNE E DEANA MARTIN - LOVE ME TENDER

Friday, June 27, 2008

SICILY QUIZ - 2

- With an easy one to start you off:

M The "city of 100 churches".

O Sicilian puppet theatre, - - - - - dei Pupi.

D A type of small tomato, - - - - - - - - - .

I Name of both a fishing village and a hoilday resort near Palermo, - - - - - delle Femmine.

C Ancient orator, quaestor of Sicily from 75 - 70 BC.

A Sant' - - - - - , patroness of Catania.

Highlight below for answers:

Modica; opera; datterini; Isola; Cicero / Cicerone; Agata.

MEDITERRANEAN MAGIC









40 C again today so for once we forsook the robust cooking and the crowd at the Altro Posto and wandered down to the Caffè Consorzio to sit under an olive tree and partake of a more refined Mediterranean menu:

First, these beautifully presented antipasti were offered. [The bowl contained couscous with vegetables.] Then James chose noce di vitello [veal] whilst I went for the medaglie di maiale con salsa di pomodorini arrosti [medallions of pork in a sauce of the freshest, tiniest Modican tomatoes]. We both had roasted vegetables as a contorno.

Finally, a gelato misto for each of us, topped with fresh plums.

All this plus drinks, the breeze, the calm and the atmosphere for 31 euros [for the two of us]. What more could anyone want? Coffee, by the way, was on the house.

James gives his impressions here.


Thursday, June 26, 2008

AFTERNOON TEA, SICILIAN STYLE


Hot, hot, hot today, with the Sacro Cuore thermometer registering +40C as I walked back at 5pm. So just what I needed on the way was this ice-cold tea with some goodly dollops of lemon granita [water-ice] in it.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

LIQUORE DI PRUGNE


Yes, the Welshcakes distillery has reopened! In order to use up some of the plums my kind neighbour gave me on Friday, I decided to make plum liqueur today: the plums have to macerate, with crumbled cinnamon, in white wine for 5 days; then the mixture will be strained, sugar added and it will all be heated gently. When it is cool, some pure alcohol will be added , it will be strained again and left for a month.
Answer to last night's "Where in Sicily?"
"Welcome" mosaic at a house in Morgantina.

Monday, June 23, 2008

WHERE IN SICILY?


- And double marks if you can work out what it is!

Answers on tomorrow's post.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

WEEKEND DOINGS




The condominio water supply went off last night, causing me the usual frustration. Now, James and I are good friends but we still kind of creep around each other regarding - err - bathroom needs, so he very chivalrously went out twice this morning to find a bar with a decent loo [these establishments are not as rare as when I first visited Sicily in 1992 but seeking them out still takes some effort].

Anyway, it seems our hero had quite an exciting time, sitting on the terrace with the local pensioners, sipping his cappuccino and taking in the scene. He arrived back with these tasty Sicilian savoury pastries and lemon granita for us both - what a decadent and delightful breakfast!

Meanwhile, I had phoned Mr C.... the water lorry driver, explained that I had rung the office on Friday to order a refill but that we had run out, and he immediately agreed to deliver this afternoon, which he did. If you have never been without running water gushing from your tap when you need it, reader, you cannot imagine what a relief this was!

Now, how to help a man with a bad back: it was dottoressa Simi to James's rescue this afternoon!

Finally, for those of you interested in the election results: after all that, the mayoral vote was too close to call in Modica and there is to be a run-off ballot between left and right here next week!

Saturday, June 21, 2008

UN ANGELO

Here's another treat from our angel Patrizio for Leslie, jmb and the other ladies who share my enthusiasm for him.

May your own angels protect you this Saturday night.
PATRIZIO BUANNE - UN ANGELO


Friday, June 20, 2008

SICILY QUIZ

James has done his back in [nothing to do with me, you naughty people!] so I thought I'd have a little quiz over here tonight:

S Here you will find both a Roman and a Greek amphitheatre, plus the Ear of Dionysius.
S- - - - - - - .

I Legend has it that you will live long if you are an inhabitant of this town. I- - - - - . [Help is here.]

C C- - - - - - siciliana, a famous Sicilian dessert.

I Sicilian pastries. Although sweet, they contain beef and their name is a corruption of Spanish empanadilla. I- - - - - - - - - - - . [Help is here.]

L Giuseppe Tomasi di L- - - - - - - - , author of Il Gattopardo [The Leopard].

I Municipal office that drives this blogger crazy! Ufficio I- - - - -.

A Site of the Valley of the Temples. A- - - - - - - - .
Highlight below for answers:
Siracusa / Syracuse; Ispica; Cassata; Impanatigghe; Lampedusa; Idrico; Agrigento.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

BELLA, BELLA SIGNORINA



Hi, folks! Simi here.

I had my summer haircut today and got my nails done, too [which is more than my mummy has managed, recently]. Not before time, any of this! My friend Mr Enzo from the doggie-beauty-parlour picked me up at 4.30 pm and he told mummy we'd be back at around 7.30. Well, he can't help being an Italian, can he? So we got back at 8.45. I have it on good authority from lo zio James that mummy was pacing the floor and calling for her baby!


Well, I think I look most elegant and mummy and Uncle James say I look like Audrey Hepburn [who?!] in Roman Holiday [whatever that is]. I do think I'm starting a fashion, though - Mme Sarkozy, eat your heart out - as all the doggie-males in this street gave me Italian wolf-whistles upon my return, One even wailed his adoration for me from his balcony as we passed, just as an Italian lover should!

Mummy says we must make no apology for again featuring the lovely Patrizio and this song here. [I prefer that black poodle down the road myself, but there's no accounting for taste with humans!]

'Bye for now, fans.
Love,
Simi xx

PATRIZIO BUANNE - BELLA, BELLA SIGNORINA

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