GIFTS

I am writing this post in response to the Italy Blogging Roundtable group's invitation to post on Italy-related gifts. 

In Italy this is the Christmas of sobrietà or austerity so I wonder just how many people here will be echoing the words of one Josephine March in those oh-so-famous opening lines of Little Women:

" 'Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents,' grumbled Jo, lying on the rug."

Well, it depends, I suppose, on what you mean by austerity and how you think of gifts.  If austerity means not going mad at Christmas, Italians tend not to anyway:  Sure, the children receive presents but not by the sackful and the festival is not regarded as a contest to be won by the family who can provide the biggest, most expensive and greatest quantity of gifts.

No one worries weeks or months ahead about the task of feeding their relatives, as that is something they do most Sundays and the task of producing the festive meal is not turned into a kitchen marathon which leaves the poor hostess in need of valium, a gallon of gin and a spa cure lasting at least a month.  

When you are invited to someone's house over the holiday, you take along something to eat - usually a dessert -  and a pensiero or small gift if you like.  [Pensiero = thought; telling, isn't it?]  But your Italian host will already regard your company as a gift and all he or she really wants is for you to relax and enjoy yourself.

Next year marks the twentieth anniversary of my association with Sicily, the region which I now call home and over these years I have received many gifts from my Sicilian friends:  Every Christmas, when I was in the UK, my friend Gina used to send a package of the white torrone [nougat] that I like and other friends would send little mementoes of Sicily that I treasured:  an ornament, a book, a candle scented with orange blossom.  And at Christmas 1994 two friends gave me a Sicily map pendant which I wear nearly every day.  "We want you to always have Sicily close to your heart", they said and so it is.

The little girl who gave me this tree decoration in 1993 is now a confident woman of 26 and I don't suppose she remembers that Christmas at all.  But I do and it is enough:

Recently a friend gave me this bauble from Caltagirone, the pottery town and as I look at it on my tree this year I am reminded of my first visit there:

Two years ago my friend Lucia, scandalised that I didn't have a crib, brought me these figures:

Every Sicilian home displays a crib at Christmas and often the figurines are family heirlooms.  Sicilians like to place typical figures from the recent past in their cribs and we have a famous and beautiful example of this tradition in Modica's Church of Santa Maria di Betlem:

In Sicily you learn that the past is also the present and I am so grateful to my friends here for that lesson, at no time more evident than during the Christmas I travelled to Segesta with Irma and her family.  As we walked through a Greek house, Irma and I mused upon the women who had lived there and wondered what their dreams had been - not so very different from ours, we concluded. 

Christmas, as the March girls discovered, is about finding joy in the company you have and the most precious gift I have received from my Sicilian friends is the love with which they surround me.

The Italy Blogging Roundtable blogs are:  ArtTrav, At Home in Tuscany, Why Go Italy, Italofile and Brigolante.  I'm sure you'll enjoy their posts on this subject and many others.

"THINGS ARE NOT ALWAYS WHAT THEY SEEM"

"Things are not always what they seem", admonishes this old postcard, which I've had in my collection for as long as I can remember:

And this afternoon that's what I told some of my students, who were surprised when my friend Lucia turned up at the school bearing this bottle as a gift:

The bottle contains something that I appreciate far more than whisky, namely some of Lucia's own olive oil.  It has a lovely, clear colour and tastes delicious.

Grazie, Lucia!

LUCIA'S OIL - 2

Not a bottle of Amaretto [sorry, DD] but a bottle of Lucia's new olive oil, which she so kindly brought me today. It tastes divine!

LUCIA'S CRIB

Kind Lucia was scandalised that I didn't have a crib with figurines based on Sicilian characters so she brought me a base, a fire and some figurines and animals to start me off. I added a Holy Family.

FOODIE FRIDAY

Soresina cheese from Lombardy

and budino di uva [grape pudding],which is traditionally made at this time of year, from Lucia:

TWO FEASTS AND A GIFT

Last night in Modica there was a very special party for a very special lady, as my dear friend Linda celebrated a significant birthday. Without further ado, I am going to show you the wonderful, international feast that she and Chiara had prepared for family and friends:

Yes, that's good old British pickle on the left there!



Amazingly light cheesecakes above.

All cakes were lovingly made by Chiara. Mamma mia, what a lot of work!

Tanti, tanti auguri di nuovo, Linda!

So there I am this morning, thinking I mustn't eat again for a whole week after that lot, when my friends Marco and Giovanna phone and invite me to lunch!

First there is homemade pasta cooked with the pumpkin flesh and fresh ricotta.

Then there is orange salad

which is served with cotolette di pollo:



For dessert, Giovanna has made frittelle di San Martino:

Introducing Marley, the five-month-old labrador who has turned the family's life upside-down in the nicest possible way. Just look at those eyes!

Benvenuto sul mio blog, Marley!

And tonight Lucia brought me a present of......frittelle!



Grazie, Lucia!

LUCIA'S OIL

I got back from work at 8.30 pm to find a carrier bag tied to the door. I knew it had to be from Lucia and inside was this bottle of oil made from her own olives. I could just gaze at the colour of it all night!

SATURDAY NIGHT...

It's cold and rainy in Sicily but I'm OK as Lucia has just brought me a focaccia filled with broccoli and salsiccia which she baked in her own traditional stone oven.

I'm off to eat it while it's still hot!

MORE AUTUMN ABUNDANCE

Kind Lucia visited this morning, bringing me these wonderful gifts from her garden: loti or kaki in dialect [Sharon fruit or persimmons], pomegranates and quinces. [The tiny pears around the side are from the greengrocer's and are the sweetest I have tasted.]

FROM LUCIA'S GARDEN

Last night my friend Lucia brought me a bag of enormous basil leaves from her garden, along with some courgette flowers, peppers and chilli peppers. A late-night pesto-making session was in order!

OF SANT'ANTONIO, FRILLS AND FLOUNCES

"Did Lady Macbeth wear a girdle?

Was that why Macbeth murdered sleep?"

- Lawrence Ferlinghetti, "Underwear".

Regular readers will know that I am not one of the world’s “Rise and shine” people , for I am usually at my best very late at night. “Early”, for me, is about 10 am, though Simi wakes at 06.00 and I open the shutters so that she can watch the dogs opposite in their run, then I’m back to the land of nod for a few hours. If it’s one of Rosa’s days, I get up at 8 and watch her energetically “doing” the house, wondering all the time how she can be so – well, normal – at what I regard as the crack of dawn.

So yesterday morning when the buzzer sounded at 9 am, I hastily dressed, thinking it it could only be the postwoman with a parcel which I am expecting. But no, “Sono io, Lucia” sang a cheerful voice over the intercom. Lucia is rather like an “Avon lady” and she arrives weekly to sell me make-up and herbal remedies, which I am all too easily persuaded to buy, as she, who is a little older than me, looks fabulous. She is very kind, and always brings me something other than her wares: some olive oil made from her own olives, lettuce from her garden or broken homemade biscuits for Simi. Yesterday she had brought two chunks of fresh bread: “Today is Sant'Antonio”, she informed me, “and I’ve just been to the monastery to have this bread blessed. You must dip it in oil and oregano and eat some.” I obediently did so, as I need all the help I can get, and very fine bread it was, delicious with this simple condiment.

There is a certain kind of Italian prettiness, which consists in not being afraid to be feminine, in piling on your fine jewellery and mixing it with bling, in wearing your frills and flounces with pride, in setting it all off with a perfect hairdo and accessorising like mad. All this Lucia has and I envy her. When the woman is ready, she doesn’t hide her charms but walks along the street confidently, knowing she looks stunning. If she is older, she won’t encounter “white van man” shouting, “Not bad, gran” or “Borrowed your granddaughter’s dress, luv?” but will receive appreciative looks from men of all ages.

The other secret of looking like this is that, for each outfit, you have to have not only the perfect accessories but the perfect underwear. A British friend of mine, who designs and makes clothes for aristocratic weddings, says she can take at least half a stone off any woman by means of the underwear, which is, of course, sewn into the garment. [That’s partly how the Princess Dianas of the world achieve their look.]

So, with this in mind, after Lucia’s visit I made for the via Sacro Cuore and my favourite intimi shop because it was high time [I use the word “high” advisedly] I got myself properly equipped for my new outfits. “I want a bra with a feretto [underwiring] that will bring them up to here”, I explained, pointing to just below my neck and, with an understanding smile, the sales assistant brought me not one apparatus, but three, that would do just that. [They look at you and guess your size here and they are usually right.] Breathe in, let her adjust the straps and watch your body shape change instantly! “And I want another strapless one, please, and one that won’t show its seams under t-shirts.” More wonders of gravity defiance were whisked off the shelves for my inspection and of course, they just happened to have an offer on, and if I took not one, but two, of each , I could get a third free and a discount off the frillies to go with them and then there was this lingerie perfume they had just brought out….

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But the star product, in my opinion, was this clever solution to the “strapless” dilemma. [Yes, guys, we are always worrying about how to push ‘em up under those strapless dresses and tops!] You can substitute this for the straps of a “convertible” bra – only the Italians would think of it and it’s much neater, I think, than transparent straps. It comes in several colours, too:

When I first came here I found underwear shopping a nightmare as there are few M&S [a British chain-store] type shops where it is displayed on hangers and you are free to browse. In 4 years more semi-browsable shops have appeared but you will not be left alone to make your choices, for the shop assistants would regard that as being unhelpful. I have come to the conclusion that, if you choose the right store, an underwear-shopping trip is much more fun the Italian way!