Barf.

Not all Italian food is good. Some of it can be quite revolting.

Take cream cheese for example. Cream cheese is only used in a few dishes in America, and it’s almost primarily used for breakfast, on bagels. That’s it.

In Italy, the Italians I know put cream cheese on EVERYTHING!

When I go to the sandwich shop with people at school, the Italians ask for “philadelphia” on their paninis, without fail. Why on earth would someone choose a Kraft cheese product when there is fresh mozzarella, gorgonzola, provolone, parmaggiano…. the list goes on.

The other gross thing about Italian cream cheese is that it comes in many strange flavors. Like these two shown here- tuna and ham. There is also olive and the brand-new chocolate flavored one. Healthy!

Anyway, I know I am super behind on my blog, but my thesis is due in two days, so this weak photo post will have to do for now. I’ll post something more significant next week… promise!

Me and the chef

I turn 30 a week from today! I have managed to accomplish a lot of items on my bucket list, but I don’t think I’ll manage to do everything by next Sunday. But let’s focus on the successes. I’m very behind in this blog and will start with my early birthday present from the Italian boy, a cooking class in Milan!

We went to Teatro 7 to take a cooking class in pork. Kind of random, I know. I thought about taking something with sauces or pasta, but I realized that I can be a pretty good cook with those things when I have a recipe. I wanted to challenge myself and do something totally out of my element. Namely pork. Something I NEVER cook.

Can you tell by my expression I'm not comprehending anything?

I have gotten more confidence in my Italian comprehension, but made the Italian boy come with me to be my translator. Good thing I did, because I completely overestimated my abilities in Italian. It was hard. I was lost. But I learned a valuable lesson- when you need a translator, bring someone who will stay interested in the subject being translated. The Italian boy kept getting bored and when I asked him what was just said, he’d respond “I wasn’t listening.” Fantasico.

Teatro 7 is in an area of Milan that scares me at night, and our class was almost entirely middle-aged men. Not exactly what I expected, but it was pretty fun. The school has a nice kitchen and we were able to eat everything we helped make. The side of the school facing the street is entirely made of glass, so random people passing by would stop to watch and give us a thumbs up on our cooking. At least we made for a good show!

The results

The class was pretty interesting, even if I only knew what was being said 25% of the time. We basically assisted the chef in making 2 different pork dishes. I managed to learn a few things, despite the language barrier, and learned how to use chestnuts in cooking.

So my cooking class in Italy is off my list. Stay tuned to see what else I can accomplish in 7 days time… this is going to be a hectic week!

Photo credit Nice-mug.deviantart.com

I am trying to make an effort to speak more Italian. I have been a bit lazy here, especially since I speak English all day at school. But lately I’ve thought I knew enough to actually communicate in everyday things- I’ve been able to respond automatically (and correctly) to random people on the street, cashiers, waiters, etc.

I was thinking of how my Italian was improving today on the train, when the man across from me asked me to watch his bag while he went to the bathroom. Well, actually I think that’s what he said. I actually didn’t understand ONE WORD of what he said to me, but he put his hand on his bag and I naturally assumed he was asking me to watch it. I responded “Sì”.

Impressive… right? ha!

Then an old man came and tried to sit in that guy’s seat. I actually had no idea how to say that seat was taken, so I said something like:

“L’uomo sedere questo” (Translation: A man sit this)

Surprisingly, the old man understood my Klingon and when I motioned to the seat next to me and said “qui” (here), he sat down. This got my wondering…

Is my Italian even good? Most times I like to think I spoke better than what I said today, but is that effort even necessary? There are so many times when I hardly understand what people are saying to me, yet know exactly what they mean by their gestures and the context of the situation. I thought living in another country would be challenging, but I seem to get along just fine, even with my Klingon-Italian mess that comes out of my mouth.

The most challenging thing about living in Italy hasn’t been the language, or the people… it’s been learning to live without cheddar cheese! Provolone just doesn’t work with tacos!