HEARTS OF GOLD

My dear friends Jean and Gino truly have hearts of gold so it was with great pleasure that I attended their golden wedding anniversary party at the Marina di Ragusa on Friday night.  Jean and Gino have been living happily in Sicily for 17 years and Gino, as you may imagine, is of Italian descent.  

The party, appropriately for around 50 of Jean and Gino's friends,  was held in the elegant, covered courtyard of a restaurant which has the original name of Stasera pago io! ["Tonight I'm Paying!"]

The generous antipasti came plated and were very prettily presented. [There was melon under the Parma ham.]

Then there was wild asparagus risotto

and pasta with speck and mushrooms:

The main course was fillet of beef in a mushroom sauce

served with a side salad:

There was a refreshing macedonia for dessert

before Jean and Gino cut this beautiful cake, which had been made in a tiny, nearby pasticceria:

I wonder if they remember the first time they did this?

Unlike Will and Kate, Jean and Gino repeated the kiss several times for their friends - and for themselves!

The cake tasted every bit as delicious as it looked:

Every guest received one of these beautiful bomboniere [wedding favours]

decorated with a crystal bunch of grapes and containing golden sugared almonds:

Here is your intrepid blogger with Jean, Gino and our friend Linda of whom I've written many times on this blog:

Yes, that's a chignon I've got for the occasion, courtesy, of course, of Raffaele the hairdresser and I know he won't forgive me if I don't show you the back!

And now I'd like you all to join me in a toast: To Jean and Gino, our golden couple.  May you enjoy many more happy years together.

SABATO MUSICALE

Something a little different this week and I have my friend Nick to thank for bringing this song to my notice:  it is about soldiers of the 51st (Highland) Infantry Divison leaving Sicily after the Allied invasion of 1943.  The town of Messina was evacuated by the Germans on 17th August 1943 and the Allies finally gained control of the entire island on the same day.

A TALE OF TWO CULTURES

Corso Umberto, Modica Bassa, by night

Depressing though it is, I feel duty-bound to take time out from the Sicilian summer in order to comment on what has been happening this week in my own country and, in so doing, to make a comparison or two:

As I watched the horrific scenes in London and other UK cities I, like many others, wondered whether the parents of those involved knew or cared what their children were doing but I was even more shocked when the media broadcast police messages entreating those parents to check where their offspring were:  in what kind of country do parents have to be TOLD, late at night, to find out where their children are?

"In a country where the family structure has broken down, where the left / right / centre political parties have ruined education, where there is too much emphasis on material possessions, where there is lack of opportunity and where there is nothing for kids to do":  all these and more have been suggested as answers and there is probably some truth in all of them.  

But then I consider the situation of young people in Sicily and I realise that these responses are too glib and too easy:  it is true that the family structure is strong here but people are generally poorer and young people study for years with little or no hope of finding work, unless they know someone in an influential position or are able to inherit - yes, inherit - a public job.  Yet they seem content to go on studying and education is valued for its own sake.  Nothing to do?  In preparing teenagers for English oral exams, I often ask them what they do on Saturday evenings and the answer is invariably, "I go to the Corso [Modica's main street] and I walk up and down with my friends."  And that is exactly what they do, contentedly, Saturday night after Saturday night and when they have finished walking, they go home.  They do not set fire to buildings, go on the rampage and terrorise the rest of the town's population.  They do not blame others for their situation - though they would be justified in showing anger towards certain politicians - but continue to study in the hope that one day their qualifications will get them somewhere and that they themselves may eventually be instrumental in bringing about peaceful change in their country.  In other words, they are culturally and politically aware.

Last night I listened to a Sky News debate in which one panel member said that the rioting young people were angry because their elders were concerned only about what had happened to property and not about several recent murders in London which had gone unreported and, he implied, largely uninvestigated.  There could, again, be an element of truth in this and I found myself beginning to nod before I thought, "Just a minute - these kids live in a democracy.  There are peaceful means of demonstrating anger available to them and more opportunity to put their case to millions of people, via new technology, than there has ever been before."  Part of the tragedy is that they seem unaware of these peaceful methods of drawing attention to their cause.

I do not want to be drawn into the education system side of the issue:  as a former UK high school teacher, I have seen my profession become a political pawn and successive governments have all been as bad as each other in this respect.  I will say, though, that I fear for a system and a culture that fail to value the arts in general and I despair at the ugly and violent results of this policy.

Events in Britain this week are not representative of British culture, nor are they manifestations of a sub-culture or even a "yob culture";  they are, instead, an indication of what can happen where there is no culture.

GUESS THE FLAVOURS - 7

It's a very foodie week here on Sicily Scene but what else is summer for, if not attending sagre, trying out new recipes and sampling as many ice cream flavours as possible?

So many flavours - so little time.

Answers in the comments tomorrow.

BUON SAN LORENZO

In a few hours' time it will be la notte di San Lorenzo and I'll be out on the balcony with my nose in the air, looking for falling stars.  Here, for you, dear readers, is a selection of my favourite "star" songs and may all your wishes come true tonight:

Cristiano De André - La Notte di San Lorenzo



Mireille Mathieu - La Première Etoile



Maureen Evans - Starlight, Starbright [because I had to include a Welshwoman!]



The song that must have been written for tonight:  Perry Como - Catch a Falling Star



The most romantic Italian song ever:  The Three Tenors - Ti voglio tanto bene




And, for all you kids [like me] out there:   Stella, stellina





Buon divertimento e buona notte di San Lorenzo!

LAMB PIECES WITH CHERRY TOMATOES & MUSHROOMS

When you finally receive the supermarket points pan that you have been waiting for since February and, on the same day, your butcher has some lamb pieces which he has marinated with pink peppercorns, seasalt,  rosemary and garlic, it is a sign that you should use the lamb to inaugurate the pan, no?  Lamb is not often found here outside the Easter season, although it is beginning to be sold more often than it was when I arrived six years ago. 

Anyway, here is the recipe that I invented last night and I am calling it Better-Late-than-Never-Pan Lamb:

Heat 3 tablesp olive oil in a pan and add 500 gr fairly large, bone-in, lamb pieces which have been marinated as described above.  Cook, turning, for about 10 mins and then add 2 sliced shallots.  Continue cooking for 5 mins. Then add about 300 ml white wine and, when it has reduced a bit, the contents of a can of cherry tomatoes in their liquid.  [If you can't get this where you live you could use fresh cherry tomatoes and a small box of passata.] Mix it all well and add about 250 gr mushrooms, cut into chunks if large.  Mix again, put the lid on and cook over a low heat for 50 mins.  Serve with salad.

Buon appetito.

A SAGRA AND A SUPER TROUPER

Moonlight, Sicilian cakes and the music of Jimmy Fontana - what more could a girl want?  All three were on offer last night at the third edition of the Sagra della Torta in Modica's Quartarella district, where 15 of the Province of Ragusa's best pastry chefs displayed their creations in celebration of the 150th anniversary of the Unification of this wonderful country. First, I'll just let you look at some of these:

I think I like the "Garibaldi" cake best.  Which is your favourite?

While we were all admiring these feats of gastronomy and art, frantic preparations were going on in the background so that, at a cost of €2.00 per head, everyone could taste two generous samples and sip some Sicilian white wine:

I have loved the singer Jimmy Fontana since I was 15 years old and, when I went to university to study Italian, I came to love him more so it was a fabulous treat for me to see him perform live, accompanied by two of his sons, who have fine voices too.  Jimmy was still singing when we left two hours later - what a trouper that man is!

Thank you, Jimmy!

A Welshwoman has to like this! - Jimmy Fontana - La nostra favola


This one always makes me cry: Jimmy Fontana - La mia serenata


Surely everyone's favourite Jimmy Fontana song:   Il Mondo

The Sagra was organised by the Cultural Association Per Quartarella and was sponsored by the Comune di Modica and the Province of Ragusa.  I would like to thank all involved for a very enjoyable evening indeed.

SILLY WEEK - PROVERBS AND IDIOMS

To round off  Silly Week, here are some strange - though sometimes very apt - Sicilian proverbs and idioms.  To make it more interesting, I've turned it into a quiz so see if you can match the proverbs and idioms 1 - 6 with their meanings a - f. The answers are at the bottom of the post.

Proverbs

1.  Cui sputa 'n celu, 'n facci cci torna.
2.  Màritati e mùli hanu a stàri suli.
3.  Unni ci sù vòsca ci su' lùpi e ùnni ci sù campàni ci sù buttàni.
4.  L'amuri è comu 'n çiuovu, si 'u scippi ci rresta 'u pirtusu.
5.  Sutta 'i linzola siemu tutti richi.
6.  Cu' è fissa si ni stapi a sa casa.

a.  We are all rich under the sheets.
b.  He who spits towards the sky will get the spit back in his face [or "What goes round, comes round".]
c.  Where there are woods there are wolves and where there are bells [ie., in towns] there are whores.
d.  Let a stupid person be stupid at home [to protect him and save the family from shame!]
e.  Love is like a nail - when you pull it out, you can still see the hole.
f.  Married couples and mules need to be left alone [ because the married couple need time alone and if you leave a mule alone you can't get kicked!]

Idioms


1.  Ti sienti tuttu carciuòfila.
2.  Sunu tuttu amuri e bruoru di çiçiri.
3.  Chiddu mi pari paliccu.
4.  Ci puoi calari a' pasta!
5.  Farisi cacari am mucca.
6.  Hai 'i manu ri ricotta.

a.  He looks like a toothpick [said of someone who is too thin or of someone whose opinion counts for nothing.]
b.  You've got ricotta hands [said to someone clumsy].
c.  You can throw the pasta in the pot [meaning you can count on something].
d.  They're all love and chickpea broth [said of people who are lovesick].
e.  You feel like an artichoke [said to someone who gives themselves airs].
f.  To make someone defecate in their mouth [meaning to humiliate someone].

For answers, highlight the space below:
Proverbs: 1b; 2f; 3c; 4e; 5a; 6d.  Idioms: 1e; 2d; 3a; 4c; 5f; 6b.

SABATO MUSICALE - MARIELLA LO GIUDICE

This was played by Nicola Piovani at the funeral of the great Catanese actress Mariella Lo Giudice on Wednesday:

Pippo Noviello - Era De Maggio

Mariella Lo Giudice died, at the age of 58, following a long illness.  Her courage and, above all, her smile, never deserted her, say her friends.

Hundreds of Catanesi turned out to bid farewell to "their" actress and they were joined by politicians, artists, fashion designers, musicians and representatives from the worlds of stage and screen in Italy.  I like the way in which, at funerals, Italians applaud a life well lived:

Arrivederci, figlia dei fiori



At the end of this clip, the narrator quotes this anonymous poem, L'Unica Via [The Only Way]:

Non si arriva ad una meta
se non per ripartire.
E là dove siamo ora
non è che una tappa del nostro cammino.
con la certezza che ogni sera
è la promessa di un'aurora.

Conta i fiori del tuo giardino
e mai le foglie che cadono.
Conta le ore della tua giornata
e dimentica le nuvole.
Conta le stelle delle tue notti 
e non le tue ombre.
Conta i sorrisi della tua vita,
non le lacrime.
E ad ogni compleanno
conta con gioia la tua età 
dal numero degli amici,
non da quello degli anni.

Che piccola cosa è una vita!
La mia, la tua, come tutte,
è una goccia.
E che si perda in un mare d'amore
perché è l'unica via,
altrimenti è una goccia sprecata:
troppo piccola per essere felice da sola,
troppo grande per accontentarsi del nulla.


Once you achieve your aim
you start out again,
And where we are now
is only a stage in the journey
with the certainty that every evening
carries a promise of dawn.


Count the flowers in your garden
not the leaves that fall.
Count the hours of your day
and forget the clouds.
Count the stars at night
and not your shadows.
Count the smiles in your life
not the tears.
And, on every birthday,
count your age joyfully
by the number of friends you have
and not your years.


What a small thing a life is,
yours, mine, every life.
It is a drop
that I'd like to lose in a sea of love
because it's the only way,
or else it's a wasted drop,
too small to be happy alone
and too big to be happy with nothing.


[My translation.]


Mariella Lo Giudice, 19.9.53 - 31.7.11

THE ITALIANISED QUESADILLA

I have that great food writer Elisabeth Luard to thank for this inspiration:  in her book The Latin American Kitchen she gives a quesadilla recipe which uses red peppers and in the UK I used to make a variation using pickled cactus supplied by an American friend, the recipe having been given by Luard in a BBC interview. 

Having wanted to Italianise this recipe for a long time, I decided, for no particular reason, that tonight was to be the night: I had planned to use Sicilian red pesto in the filling but at the last minute discovered that, in my haste in the supermarket, I had picked up the wrong jar and purchased the variety that contains sardines.  As I am allergic to all fish, I couldn't use it. There I was with the oven pre-heated and my tortillas cut so I desperately searched the store cupboard for a substitute. The only item that I thought might do was a jar of sun-dried tomatoes in oil - here we are lucky enough to be able to buy big sun-dried tomatoes cheaply by the kilo and put them in oil ourselves - so, thinking that the result would be OK-ish but not spectacular, I went ahead. And, though I say it myself, the finished sort-of-quesadillas were delicious! Here's what I did:

First, cut each of eight flour tortillas into eight.  [For "real" quesadillas you leave them whole and fold them over but I like my snacky food smaller.]  On half of them, sprinkle some grated grana or parmesan cheese and add a sliver of Emmental or Gruyère.  Dollop a slice of drained sun-dried tomato on top, add a bit of chopped parsley, then place all these slices on a baking tray covered with baking parchment.  Now dampen the edges of the remaining slices and press them on.  [It won't matter if they don't quite stick.]  Brush the tops with olive oil, bake at 180 C for about 7 minutes and Roberto's your uncle! Sprinkle some more grana over the tops while still warm and serve warm or cold.  Ummm - I think I'll go and have another.

THE UPSIDE OF MAN WOES

When you have been unceremoniously traded in for a newer model, it helps to recount your woes to a loyal female friend who remembers to bring the tissues, especially if you do so over a lunch of pasta and ice cream:

Trofie with cherry tomatoes, rocket and mozzarella

Pineapple and chocolate gelato

Then you play this while your friend, if she is wise, nods in agreement:

Anna Tatangelo - Bastardo



And when you get home, you cuddle your dog:

SILLY WEEK - FRESH SUPPLIES FOR SOOTY

This wasn't going to be a Silly Week post but when I read about the antics of the bear puppet Sooty today, it kind of turned into one.  Sooty and his pal the dog Sweep [later joined by female panda Soo] kept me entertained as a child and I still love them.  But it seems that Sooty has gone off the rails lately for today, whilst recording an episode for a new TV series, he hit the British magician Paul Daniels rather too hard in the face with a pizza.  Mr Daniels ended up in hospital with a black eye but is said to be being a good sport about the incident.  Sooty, who has obviously been watching too much television, is reported to be in hiding.  I blame the parents myself.

The pizza in question, I am informed, was a Margherita  and, just in case Sooty needs some fresh supplies, here are the pizze a friend and I enjoyed in my nearest pizzeria on Monday evening:

Pizza alla porchetta

Pizza alla diavola

We could have done with you in the Italian Parliament this afternoon, Sooty and if you need a safe house, you can always come and stay with Simi and me in Sicily!  

Original Sooty Theme Tune



Dean Martin - That's Amore

SILLY WEEK - WAITING FOR GODOT?

The Italian State appoints teachers via a long and complicated series of competitions which result, for  "successful" candidates, in their names being placed on a list according to a points system.  Then they wait - and wait - to be offered a post.  Many find themselves working for years without remuneration, agreeing to do so because every year's work they do allows them to add more "points" beside their name in the list. Their  "luckier" colleagues, meanwhile,  may be offered temporary contracts which are sometimes, but not always, renewed each academic year.  This can go on for long periods before these teachers are offered permanent work.

Pity, then, a gentleman from Catania who has been waiting for a permanent teaching job for .... 36 years. "Time", as a friend of mine here is fond of saying, "stops at Messina".

GUESS THE FLAVOUR - 6

I've got my favourite amarena in here but what is the other flavour?

Answer in the comments tomorrow.

SILLY WEEK - A HOME AWAY FROM HOME

It's August again and that means it's the "silly season" in Sicily:  many stores and companies close for several weeks, nearly all close for the ten days either side of Assumption Day [15th August] and others do not bother to reopen after siesta for the whole month.  

As I reported last week, 13% of Italians taking a holiday this year are heading this way and before they do so those who have shops or businesses close them, only to arrive in Sicily to find everything..... closed.