Eat Boutique

I had some fantastic adventures in Italy in April. That weeks feel a bit like a distant dream that I am now remembering in bits and pieces as I pour through photos. This meal was definitely a dream.

My friend Davide has a sister who lives on Lake Como with her husband and daughter. Giovanna is a beautiful, generous woman and her family opened their home to me for one of my final days in the country.

We started with red wine and large white platters piled high with a salad of mozzarella, tomato and arugula, fresh meats and cured salamis, a vegetable quiche and bread.

After we massacred those plates, Giovanna served our main course of lasagna. Now, this wasn’t American lasagna. In northern Italy, lasagna is made simply, with sheets of pasta, a ragu (in this case, beef), a little tomato paste and some fresh cheese. They don’t hide the pasta in mounds of tomato sauce. (Davide had made me his special lasagna when he was living in the States, but I had to tease him as his sister’s was a touch better. I wonder if it had something to do with actually eating it in Italy.)

Our next course was cheese.

Enough said there.

Dessert was a lovely strudel served with ice cream, whip cream and a sweet, sparkling moscato. This photo didn’t turn out so well. You’ll have to pardon me. The wine was flowing, as emphasized in said photo.

After lunch, my hosts walked me to the top of the house, out onto a roof deck, to show me their beautiful garden. I couldn’t take my eyes off the stunning lavender bushes, bushes I couldn’t see in New England until now. Oh, and they wanted to share their view as well.

The photos of their specific view didn’t turn out so well. But it looked something like this. You should have been there to hear me muttering, “Tough life.” Seriously, it was beautiful and they were beautiful and I can only hope to return with the husband very soon.

April 16 in Venice. Loads of people getting on and off the boats on the canal. This little dog focused on steering clear of all the heavy-bottomed shoes.

When I landed in Milan on April 14 of this year, my host Davide zipped me down to his home in Pavia and immediately invited some family over for coffee. I was a bit dazed from two long flights and decided to nestle in with some coffee, a bit of cake and my camera. As the family buzzed about in quick Italian, I was touched by all the lovely mismatched cups, and amused by Davide’s aunt’s huge gold ring.

A starched linen was placed on the table, along with cups of different sizes and little spoons with which to spoon heaping servings of Fruttosio (sugar made from fruit instead of sugar cane) into their dark, rich coffee. A canister of Fruttosio was lucky enough to make it through customs on my way home.

This little white cup with blue flowers particularly mesmerized me. It was so delicate and much too delicate for every day use in America, but my Italian friends were too happy to deliver my coffee in this sweet vessel.

Davide’s aunt was equally amused by me and my passion for food and Italian recipes in particular. She went on and on about her much visited home kitchen, and everyone around the table agreed she served flavorful cuisine.

She was so pleased that she proceeded to recite her famous Summer zucchini pasta dish that she makes for every family event. It’s a dish she’s known for and she went into great detail on how to prepare the zucchini. Alas, she recited her method in Italian and my translators were too slow for her quick lips. (An email of the recipe is allegedly on its way to me this month.)

I fell in love with this little stove top coffee maker. And, though I only drink decaf coffee, fell in love with the dark, strong flavor of the regular coffee Davide’s Mom packed into this machine each morning. Davide has said Alessi makes new perfect little coffee machines, but I am trying to find this exact one from 20 years ago. I’m hoping to snag one on Ebay in short order!

I felt very privileged to partake in this regular coffee event. It energized me for day of exploring the center of Pavia. In America, we tend to steer away from weekday coffee chats in the home favoring long, drawn-out dinners on the weekends. I want to find some weekday leisure time, invite a girlfriend over and enjoy a quick coffee and sweet treat, and then get back to the business of my day. Perhaps it would help cope with the stress of the work week, and remind me to take it all with a grain of… Fruttosio.

I’ve only now had a few moments to download my 800 photos of Italy, New York and so many meals. No meal photos here today, just a glimpse into where I was a mere week ago. Part of me feels as if Italy was a dream, a delight I’m remembering only bit by bit. The other part of me knows it happened and feels so sad that I’ve neglected to share every moment, photo and bite.

Bit by bit, I will catch up. And bit by bit, I’ll begin to tell the story that was Italy for me. Italy is different for everyone, and I’m sure was especially unique for many of the readers of this site. But I can only share my photos, tell you my two cents about the people, vistas and cuisine. The photo above feels like a postcard, not because I’m a great photographer (which I am not) but because it seems unreal (mountains, snow, water, flowers all in one scene).

In addition to the view, I took in an amazing meal with such a sweet family while in Como. They were so generous with their time, their home and their attention to detail. I will post those photos shortly, when I get a moment to adequately describe the deliciousness that was their meal. For now, one more photo that also seemed unreal to me, but permitted me to see a vista that had been buried in my mind for so long. I felt that Como looked this good in real life, and was totally right.

This salad made me so happy. I devoured it the moment I stepped into Venice, while sitting along the Grand Canal with my friend, drinking a glass of Prosecco. After four hours on a train, I was tired and hungry but didn’t want to over-indulge. This gentle salad fit the bill, dressed simply with olive oil, orange juice and salt. Fennel season in New England is now over, but plan to add this recipe to my arsenal next year.

I’ve been back but a day and have so much to do to catch up at work. But now heading off to a conference, and hope to share all my 800 photos with you in the coming weeks.