Italy Magazine 2014 Blogger Awards – SL&N needs your votes!

italy-blogger-square-2

Ciao amici!  Bella notizia (great news) to share: Sex, Lies, & Nutella has been selected as a finalist in Italy Magazine’s 2014 Blogger Awards in two categories.  What an honor.  Evviva!

So, it looks like my little hobby has just turned competitive!  If you love you some SL&N (as I know you do), I ask you to per favore spread the Nutella love and help bring those awards home.  All you have to do is click on each of the two links below, find my blog, and vote.  Basta, that’s all!

Best Living in Italy Blog: http://www.italymagazine.com/blog-awards/2014?field_blog_category_tid=44500

Best Living in Italy Single Post: http://www.italymagazine.com/blog-awards/2014?field_blog_category_tid=44501

If you haven’t checked out Italy Magazine, you should.  They have a staggering amount of interesting information, pictures, and everything any Italophile could ask for on their website.

Lastly, congratulations to my fellow C.O.S.I. bloggers who are also finalists in various categories.  Forza, C.O.S.I.!

  • Rick of Rick’s Rome has been nominated for Best Overall Blog for Lovers of Italy
  • Misty of Surviving in Italy with her post: Dog Boarding, Adoption, And Dog Parks In Florence, Italy
  • Rick again with his post: The Definitive Guide for the Permesso di Soggiorno
  • Maria from Married To Italy for Best Living in Italy Blog

9 New Year’s Resolutions for Expats in Rome

1. Never trick yourself into thinking that purchasing a Smart car will somehow increase your odds of finding parking – it will actually only encourage you to park even more illegally and absurdly than before.

2. Make life interesting and try to order something other than a Spritz at your next aperitivo. Martini Royale, anyone?

3. Realize that you will never fully make sense of the Italian political system, or the university one, for that matter (wait, you’re 28 and have how many exams to pass before you graduate?).

4. Embrace the insanity. Rome is a chaotic, frenzied place that sometimes seems out of control. Keep your cool and go with the flow when things don’t go the way you’d expect (or the way any reasonable human being would expect).

5. If you don’t already have one, find a friend with a Vespa who’ll regularly take you on a “tour di Roma” on late summer nights. There is nothing better.

6. Never ignore the call of the occasional street food schifezza (junk food). Screw calorie counting – eat that massive piece of fried baccala’ in Piazza Santa Barbara. Like, right now.

7. In fact, eat whatever you see in front of you right now. Don’t worry, you’ll walk it off.

8. Keep your amici Romani close, but the gelato closer.

9. When all else is lost and you’re feeling desperate, just remember you’re on a journey that so many yearn to experience, and one that may not last forever. Enjoy it, and don’t let the setbacks frustrate and derail you. Sorridi (smile), you live in Italia!

Check out what my COSI friends are up to for New Year’s as well:

http://marriedtoitaly.com/2015/01/01/capo-danno/
http://theflorencediaries.wordpress.com/2014/12/30/new-years-eve-in-florence-or-as-i-like-to-call-it-the-italian-hunger-games/
http://rickzullo.com/new-year-in-italy/
http://unwillingexpat.wordpress.com/2014/12/26/an-expats-resolution/

Plus more posts to come from the rest of the COSI group; check out their home pages for updates:

Surviving in Italy
Girl in Florence
Englishman in Italy

Buon 2015 a tutti!
Baci,
SL&N

Operation: Italian Thanksgiving – “La Festa della Gallina”

Ciao amici!  This is my first collaborative post with the C.O.S.I. (Crazy Observations by Stranieri (Foreigners) in Italy) blogger roundtable team.  A fun, talented group of expats taking on Italy one day at a time. We all post once a month on a common theme with different points of view. You can connect to the other members’ fantastic blogs here.  Also, if you would like to share your own experience in Italy about our monthly subject (this time it’s regional foods with a Thanksgiving spin), just use the hashtag #COSI when posting.

For as long as I can remember, in my house Thanksgiving had another name: “La Festa della Gallina” (The Feast of the Chicken).  This term was coined by my immigrant grandfather, Papa Guy.  Every year we would joke about it and ask him to explain the significance of Thanksgiving; he would just shrug his shoulders and ask to pass the stuffing.  It was a holiday all about food – an exorbitant amount of food – and that was good enough for him.

The Italians don’t have much of a clue about how or why this unique holiday is celebrated (then again, neither do some Americans) – but they are quite intrigued by it (Ma quanto pesa ‘sta tacchino?! How much does this turkey weigh?!).  The only saving grace is the fact it’s essentially all about food, as most of their holidays are, which they can certainly relate to and appreciate.

Celebrating Thanksgiving as an expat, as with many other things, has been an adventure and an evolution.  I like to think I’ve mastered it over the course of passing six of them in a country where it doesn’t exist.  But it hasn’t been easy.

My first year here, I’m pretty sure I had either inadvertently forgotten about it, or ignored it all together for the sake of assimilation.  The second year, my husband (then-boyfriend at the time) knew I really missed being at home that day.  I called him from work, glued to my computer screen watching the live streaming Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade ridden with nostalgia, tears rolling down my cheeks.  So he very sweetly surprised me with an evening out at the Hard Rock Café Rome, where they have a special menu every year.

The third year, I was motivated to see if I could remotely pull off a mini-Thanksgiving for two.  I quickly realized though, since Italians don’t eat a lot of turkey in general, at a last-minute glance the bird was no where to be found.  So, I asked myself: what looks like a turkey and tastes like a turkey, enough to pass off as a turkey?  The biggest chicken I could find, that’s what!  And it was then, during that first attempt at a Thanksgiving re-creation abroad, that I finally understood and celebrated the true meaning of Papa Guy’s “Festa della Gallina.”  I whipped up some mashed potatoes and peas and called it a day.  Gimmi was mildly impressed.

By the fourth year, I finally got my act together and was ready to attempt a true reproduction.  I successfully formed a troupe of brave Italians to share my table with whom, incidentally, were way more excited about it all than they should have been.  Hey, it’s not every day un’americana invites you to Thanksgiving dinner.  But little did I know the search for proper ingredients would be una vera rogna (a royal pain in the…), and they would cost a small fortune when I finally tracked them down.

One of my most enthusiastic friends directed me to her favorite macellaio in Parioli (a wealthy area of Rome).  Never had I seen a more glamorous meat market; it looked like a film set of handsome actors making jokes and suave glances between their choice cuts.  They could get us a turkey, but it would take a month and cost €75.  “Were they going to have to go on a group hunting trip to the Tuscan countryside and shoot it themselves?”  I wondered.  The famous specialty foods chain in Rome, Castroni,  turned out to be the best resource for all the rest of the accompanying delicacies – but at what cost?  A can of Ocean Spray cranberry jelly was €8?!  Porca troia!  I’d have to sacrifice next month’s rent to put this meal on.  But I was committed; there was no turning back on Operation: Italian Thanksgiving.  And it was a grand success.

Last year,our group reunited again and had a fantastic time cooking and enjoying together.  I had created a new tradition in my new home, and it felt great.  Oh, but I did wise up and ordered the turkey from my local butcher.  He only wanted €30.  Had a great laugh when I went to pick it up though.  The conversation went something like this:

Macellaio: That’ll be 60 euro.
Me: Seems like a lot – the guy I ordered from said it would be around 30…
Macellaio: 30 euro, for a 35-pound turkey?
Me: 35 pounds?? I asked for a 10 to 12-pound turkey!
Macellaio: Ooooh, wait a second – you ordered the female turkey… You must be the other American (good to know there were only two of us in town, and she had the bigger oven).

Pulling off a stellar Thanksgiving in Italy means adapting to what’s available and unifying it with as much tradition as possible.  Trust me, your average peas are much better with a little pancetta added in for good measure anyway.  Italy makes everything taste better, so of course, Thanksgiving does, too.

Happy Feast of the Chicken to all!

Count the Putans

It’s summer in Rome – and in this city, when the temperatures rise, the clothes come off.  Which reminds me, time to play one of my favorite seasonal games: Count the Putans.

15 Reasons to Love Italy

Although it’s easy to occasionally dwell on the numerous, painfully evident things that are wrong with this country – as referenced in my recent post, 10 Things I Hate About Italy – my love for this eclectic, eccentric land is immeasurable.  It’s important to be objective, because when you really love someone or something, you learn to appreciate (and accept) both the good and the bad, pregi e difetti.  Thankfully, in my case, for every negative aspect of life in Italy, there are at least two positives – otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to personally justify staying here.

So, what exactly is so great about this country?  Where do I begin…

1. No one does atmosphere like Italy.  Everyone knows life is best lived in the company of fantastic people, surroundings, and food/wine.  So it’s safe to say Italy is essentially a triple threat in life.  Although residents may occasionally be disheartened and disillusioned by all the political and economic problems, all it takes is a relaxing passeggiata through the centro storico (historic center) to make it all better.  The sound of church bells ringing in the distance, impromptu concerts from street musicians, the amazing scent of fresh food – heck, even the smell of cigarette smoke swirling through the piazza – it all contributes to a one of a kind atmosphere that is entirely Italian, and so incredibly lovely.  After a while, you become entrenched in it, absorbed by it – and you realize you are no longer part of the atmosphere, it is part of you.

2. Quality of life is an uncompromisable priority.  It’s not that Italians aren’t capable of being as ambitious as Americans – they just don’t want to be.  It has nothing to do with ability, but rather a true desire to make room for and savor pleasurable experiences at all costs.  That may explain why this country tends to suffer and struggle to keep up with a globalized world that always demands more and more free time.  The Italian infrastructure is designed to guarantee the simplest, most enjoyable things (like vacations) are built right into the calendar.  Even on a daily basis, the day is broken down into time for coffee, time for a leisurely lunch, time for a stroll and a snack, then time for another coffee.   It may be cliché, but the idea really is to work to live, not live to work.  One could argue that’s also because job availability is scarce and opportunity for higher pay and job advancement not as great – but there’s a more deeply-rooted cultural belief that many Mediterranean countries share which, in my opinion, stems from the overwhelming amount of surrounding beauty urging everyone to get out and enjoy it as much as possible.

3. In Italian, Disney characters Huey, Dewey, and Louie are called, “Qui, ” “Quo,” and “Qua”:

disney

Cracks me up every time. ©Disney

 4. Italians are refreshingly (and sometimes, brutally) honest.  They will say what they feel and give sincere feedback, and expect the same in return.  Something I’ve found hilarious for years now: on one game show, when the host introduces the contestants, he always asks the relative or friend in the audience to share the person’s best and worst attributes.  I always get a kick out of it because the relative will respond with something to the effect of, “He’s really generous, and a great tennis player – but he’s terrible with directions and doesn’t know when to shut up.”  The contestant’s reaction is usually just a little shrug, as if to be in humble agreement.  People here generally seem more aware of their faults, and less likely to be offended by a truthful statement.  Case in point: some Italians (especially Southerners) are so quick to mention when you’ve gained weight, it’ll be the first thing out of their mouths when they see you.  I never knew how permolosa (touchy) I was until it happened to me.  This kind of candor can be especially jarring to an American, who is used to keeping her lips tightly sealed for fear of offending someone by the mere mention of an overtly obvious fact.  But apparently to them it’s just an innocent conversation starter, as if to say it looks as if you’ve been living the good life.  Plus, what are you, blind?  You own a mirror, so you’re clearly already aware of what I’m saying to you.  So, you’ve gained a few pounds, big deal.  This took a while to get used to, but once you do, you start to resent anyone who tries to prenderti per il culo or venderti fumo (take you for a fool/blow smoke).

5. Verbal communication is an art, and Italians are its masters.  Oral examinations are part of their regular curriculum from elementary school on, partially to eliminate the risk of cheating on exams, but also to reinforce confidence and teach kids to be effective orators.  Get into a discussion with any Italian, even a conventionally uneducated one, and you’ll be surprised at how effortlessly (and verbosely) they will lay it all out for you.  Body language is also an essential part of this communication.  This marvelously unique Italian method of gesturing is passionate, colorful, expressive, in your face – and most of all, it makes speaking the language so much fun.  Also, it doesn’t leave much room for misinterpretation, as any successful communication should do.  And many (like those pictured below) prove everyday that it’s entirely possible to drive a motorino while gesticulating wildly with your hands.

talk_hands_scooter

Whatever he’s saying clearly can’t wait until he gets off the scooter. ©Reidsguides.com

6. Old school courtesy and respect are still alive and well.  Although I consider myself a well-mannered person, when I first moved here I almost felt like I was getting a refresher course in Manners 101. It made me realize how much our culture in the US has forgotten some simple gestures of courtesy, like greeting everyone who’s already present whenever you enter or exit a place, looking people in the eye with sincerity when you speak to them, etc.  If you don’t behave this way in Italy, you’re easily labeled un caffone (rude/slob), and rightfully so.  Fortunately, here you’re often reminded that basic social decorum is a beautiful thing, and thankfully, can still a priority in society today.  Speaking of which…

7. This country doesn’t have a habit of breeding natural born killers.  This is a critical point I discussed in a post after the Sandy Hook tragedy, and shouldn’t be underestimated.  On a personal level, this means once my son starts school I’ll have one less major thing to worry about – also definitely not to be underestimated.  Naturally, kids around the world will always go through their stages of being smart-mouthed, annoying, and rebellious – but the kind of horror stories you’ll hear from any American teacher about the complete disregard for basic human decency happening daily in some schools today is simply not tolerated here, and on a cultural level, seems to never be attempted in the first place.

8. Free healthcare, folks.  I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: it may not be perfect, but at least it exists as an alternative to insurance.  Complain all you want about the public sector and its bureaucracy, crumbling infrastructure, dizzyingly long waits, and surly staff – but regardless, the option is available to everyone, and many times, it’s more than decent (especially the quality of physicians).  Also, prescription drugs are sold at literally a fraction of the cost of those in the US.  By the way, as I also previously wrote about while pregnant, the maternity benefits are pretty stellar, too.

9. Exposure to the occasional PG-rated, passive-aggressive, mafia-style intimidation tactic: Case in point, photo below – a gesture regularly used to let you know someone didn’t like the way you parked.

car.jpg

And if they bend your side mirror, you’re really in trouble.

10. All rules have exceptions, and everything is up for discussion.   Italian society and people are very flexible, meaning that everything is up for discussion, all the time.  The final answer may be no, but it’s never really no.  From an American point of view, this could be seen as a negative, since in the US strict rule following isn’t only encouraged, it’s mandated.  But making friendly banter, asking for and reciprocating favors, schmoozing, negotiating – it’s all part of the Italian’s DNA.  They thrive on that interaction and confrontation; it’s when they’re at their best.  And from perks to preferential treatment, charisma and having a way with people is strongly rewarded here, even when it’s undeserved (how do you think Berlusconi has managed to stick around this long?).

11. Holidays are about food, not gifts.  It goes without saying that Italians are obsessed with food, but what’s great is there’s a specific food to accompany every minor and major holiday in the calendar year.  Not only that, each region has its own version of said delicacy.  Celebrations are centered around the traditional food, and less about decorations or bombarding children with countless gifts they won’t care about ten minutes later.  All that extra stuff is cute and nice, but… dov’è il cibo (where’s the food)?

12. The language allows for some of the most colorful cursing on the planet.  Aside from being insulting, curse words and ways to tell someone off in Italy are not only endless, they’re quite complex and fancifully creative.  In true Italian style, some of the best involve lengthy constructions (almost always blasphemous ones), where you can pick and choose to damn the animal, saint, etc. of choice.  There’s the classic “Porca miseria” (miserable pig), or the damning of inanimate objects, such as, “Mannaggia ai sandali di Cristo” (Damn Jesus’ sandals).  Then, there are others built around an entire imaginary scenario, with a surprisingly concise delivery: for example in Rome, with just two words, you can hope someone’s dead ancestors rot in hell (“Mortacci Tua!”), and countrywide, with one simple gesture, you can really piss someone off by insinuating they’re a cornuto (a jackass who doesn’t know he’s being cheated on by his significant other).  And then, there’s the most widely used of all – the equivalent of our “F-off”: when you’re absolutely disgusted with someone, only in Italy can you send them off to quel paese, or literally “that country” – the more tame version of the magical destination better known as “Fanculo.

Has anyone really ever made it there?

Has anyone actually ever made it there?

13. Healthy living and weight management is a no-brainer.  Keeping yourself in shape isn’t about a trendy, fad diet.  When it comes to nutrition, Italians have it all figured out, and they have for centuries.  Obesity isn’t a problem in this country because of a few simple rules they consider to be second-nature: eat a balanced diet, cook with fresh ingredients, keep recipes simple, control portions, and avoid your car as much as possible.  That’s it.

14. People are generally smart and very furbo (clever).  You have to step up your game when you live in Italy; one of the worst things you can do is be fesso (naive fool).  When everyone is clever, they all think they’re more clever than everyone else – so everyone is always trying to out-do everyone else’s cleverness.  But hey, that’s Italy – and a characteristic that could be considered both the root of all its problems and catalyst of its successes.  This dynamic makes for a society full of interesting interactions between citizens who are all pretty quick to the switch, and able to run rings around Americans when it comes to street smarts. That’s why in Naples, stealing a wallet from an unwitting tourist is the equivalent of taking candy from a baby.  I bet they almost feel guilty doing it, like it’s not a fair fight.

15. Lastly, some of the people I love most in this world were born and bred here. Even if none of the above were true, that would certainly be enough for me.