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My.Daily.Distraction ~ Post 160: Strudel School

31 Tuesday Mar 2015

Posted by duckykoren in Baking, Cooking, Recipes

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Apples, Baking, Baptist, Church, Cooking, Foodie, Mother, Oma, strudel

‘If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe.’

Carl Sagan

In German cuisine, there is no ‘pie’ as such. The closest you can get is torte. Strudel is very much like pie, as it contains both pastry and fruit filling.

Further, apple strudel is the centre of the universe when it comes to German cuisine.

So, in the spirit of the late, great Carl Sagan, allow me to present this homage to a childhood memory drenched in the popular German epicurean delight: Strudel.

Imagine if you will…

…a very young girl, with a Mother who works full time.

A working Mother was unusual in the German community that I grew up in. My Grandfather had been a pastor at a German Baptist church in Toronto, so I knew just about everyone in the congregation. I knew no other Mother who worked outside the home.

There were senior women from the church who would volunteer their time to visit young households and show the novice housewives how to prepare an apple strudel from scratch.

No doubt, the thought that there were German homes with children who never had fresh apple strudel must have been unthinkable to these women who donated their time, patience and baking expertise.

This is what I remember…

On the designated day, Oma Haas would show up at our home very early in the morning.

(Oma is the German word for Grandmother… She wasn’t my Grandmother however, Oma was used as a term of endearment and respect. She may have been my Grandfather’s cousin… *sigh* …but I digress)

The first order of of the day would be would begin with the peeling of apples.

It seemed as Mother and Oma Haas were peeling apples for hours. There must have been a whole bushel involved. All you could smell was apples. As soon as they were peeled the naked apples would be given a bath in a large bowl filled with lemon juice and water to help preserve freshness as it would be quite awhile before they made it into the oven.

There was still so much work to be done.

After the apples were peeled, bathed and dried, they were then finely sliced and chopped. There were mounds and mounds of apples. It was as if our home had been invaded by them.

The next thing I remember is the preparation of the dough. It took a lot of flour, elbow grease and kneading to make this dough perfect. Oma Haas would accept nothing less.

After it had been prepared a large clean white cloth was placed over the kitchen table. Next the dough was rolled out, and rolled and rolled. Meticulous fingers were used to prod and coax the dough until it covered the entire table and hung over the sides. Any rips or holes were carefully mended. At this point the dough was so thin that you could almost see through it. Then it was carefully brushed with butter so it wouldn’t dry out too quickly.

Even at my age, I was impressed at the precision Oma Haas displayed in her work. She knew exactly what to do and when to do it. Mother didn’t dare second guess her. She followed orders and did as she was told. There was little conversation as Mother and Oma Haas worked, as there was a whole lot of concentration going on.

The apples were then strewn across the table along with sugar, cinnamon and raisins. At this point, it looked like my Mother and Oma Haas were having lots of fun. However, I was strictly verboten from touching anything. Still, I snuck a piece of apple whenever I could.

Then came the most interesting part. One side of the white tablecloth was lifted high and manipulated in a waving motion so that the dough rolled up all by itself without being touched by hand. It made for a very long apple jelly roll.

When rolling was completed, the strudel was cut into pieces to fit into the baking pans. There was lots and lots of strudel to bake, so it could not go into the oven all at once.

I remember the final strudel came out of the oven late in the afternoon. Then it was time to clean the kitchen.

By the time it was all over, we had a fridge full of strudel. Oma Haas took some strudel to share with her family and other members of the church congregation.

Those were different times indeed. There was no canned apple filling, no phyllo dough, no store bought apple strudel.

Just determination, discipline, compassion for others and a commitment to preserve the old ways as long as possible…

…As well as the love for a good homemade apple strudel.

My.Daily.Distraction ~ Post 153: Cooking With The Greedies

24 Tuesday Mar 2015

Posted by duckykoren in Cooking, Entertainment, Food, foodie, Health, Television

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Cheese, chefs, Cooking, Food, Foodie, Italy, restaurant, Rome, Two Greedy Italians, vegetables

image

Each week back in the early sixties, my Father would watch a television show called ‘SING ALONG WITH MITCH.’

It was a chorale of singers who along with their music conductor, Mitch, sang popular ballads and folk songs. Viewers would be encouraged to sing along. The words to the songs scrolled along the bottom of the television screen along with the obligatory bouncing ball.

I was very young at the time, and never got a chance to sing along with Mitch.

However, I have had the opportunity to…

Cook Along With “The Greedies.”

After four years, I think that it’s safe to say that the television series, TWO GREEDY ITALIANS remains my family’s favourite cooking show.

Since it’s debut on BBC television on May 2011, there have been many cookbooks, and even a second season called TWO GREEDY ITALIANS: STILL HUNGRY.

In the series premier episode, we were introduced to well known chefs Gennaro Contaldo and Antonio Carluccio, who were both born in Italy. They both left Italy when they were young adults to travel abroad and persue their careers.

The first show opens with the two chefs telling us of their quest to travel through Italy to see if…

“Mamas are still teaching their babies how to cook.”

To show how simple these dishes were to prepare, the chefs often sat outside from where they were lodging, lit a fire and prepared their meal.

It was through their inspiration that one weekend I resolved to try and cook a real Italian dinner. The dishes I chose were ricotta dumplings, (gnocchi), and warm chocolate and amaretto pudding.

I had heard of gnocchi all my life but had never tried it. As for the warm chocolate and amaretto pudding, who wouldn’t be able to resist that?

Both dishes were an easy success which led me to try two more of their dishes the following weekend. The dishes I chose to make next were the slow cooked family stew and polenta. The stew called for juniper berries which I was unable to find. Instead, I was told that a bay leaf would suffice.

Never before had I experienced such a rich tasting stew. As for the polenta, it reminded me of the cream of wheat I had as a child. The interesting twist to this dish was the ingredient, Fontana cheese. This was delicious as well.

The following weekend, it was my husbands’ turn to cook.

For his dish, he did not look to the Greedies, but rather a dish he had heard of and wanted to try, spaghetti carbonara.

Never before, had I seen him as meticulous as he was with the ingredients. His hard work and determination paid off, because again, the meal was a success.

These are not meals that one can enjoy everyday, as they are rich and somewhat expensive to prepare.

Our first trip to Italy changed how our family shopped for groceries, how we prepared our food and how we ate.

During our time in Italy, I paid close attention to the salad ingredients.

Once I returned home, I was pleasantly surprised how many of the ingredients were available. In fact, I remember always seeing these vegetables in the produce aisles in the supermarket, I just didn’t know what they were.

Here is a rundown of ingredients you might want to include in your next salad.

I would encourage you to switch your bottled dressing to a tablespoon of olive oil, and a few sprinkles of balsamic vinaigrette.

Remember, olive oil is good for you. I read one report that said anyone can substantially reduce their chances for macular degeneration, a degenerative disorder of the eye, by including one tablespoon of olive oil, a handful of nuts plus lots of green leafy vegetables in their diet each day, along with two servings of fish each week.

I was curious about how I would know a good bottle of balsamic vinaigrette when I saw one. Then, one day, I was in a Costco, of all places where a nice lady was giving out samples of this tasty fare. She had three different types, from the least to most expensive. After trying a spoon of all three, I finally figured it out.

What a difference. The preferred and of course most expensive balsamic vinaigrette is syrupy and sweet. It was a good lesson for me. I hope you have this same opportunity. It cost me forty dollars for a bottle, but lasted six months.

Italian Salad Vegetables:

Radicchio – this looks like a small head of red cabbage
Arugula – bitter, reminds me of shamrocks
Fresh lettuce
Parsley
Finely shaved fresh garlic –
Artichokes (feel free to use canned ones)
Fresh basil
Tomatoes – cherry tomatoes work bes
Chopped fresh zucchini

Next time you find yourself at the grocery store, treat yourself to some fresh mozzarella. This comes in many shapes and sizes. My favourite is Bocconchini. I like to toss it into the salad.

For the final touch, sprinkle on some freshly grated Parmesan cheese, and fresh ground pepper.

Feel free to experiment with other ingredients till you find what suits you best.

I like the combination above, because it is so fragrant and flavourful, I could close my eyes and easily imagine that I’m in a Roman ristorante.

Mangia Buono!

My.Daily.Distraction ~ Post 135: …The Hot Pepper In My Life

06 Friday Mar 2015

Posted by duckykoren in Celebrations, Food, Weddings

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

#joy, Britain, celebrations, daughters, Diana, Dress, Family, Food, Foodie, hot peppers, Monarchy, prince, Prince Charles, princess, Royalty, wedding dress, Weddings

On the day that Lady Diana married Prince Charles in July 1981, we were visiting my Mother and Jim in Vermont. My Grandparents were there as well.

We all watched the wedding together.

What I remember best about the royal celebrations is not the wedding gown or the church or the musical interludes.

What I remember best is a statement made by the Archbishop of Canterbury who married them.

In his opening statement he said the following:

“We are all Princes and Princesses on our wedding day.”

This is very true.

His statement made before the entire Royal British family confirms what commoners have known all along…

That anyone can be a Prince or Princess.

This week I received confirmation from my youngest daughter that she has chosen her wedding dress. She even sent me a photo.

I have always told her that she is the hot pepper in my life. So, I had a bit of a moment when I thought of my youngest daughter wearing a wedding dress on what will be the happiest day in her life…

…and turning into a Princess.

This is the same girl who at four years old got up early one morning and mixed up a batch of cookies on my living room rug without using a bowl…

….The same girl who used up my expensive face moisturizer when she was nine years old. When asked why, she stated that she didn’t want to look old like me.

…The same girl who screamed in terror one morning just before leaving for school when I told her that she looked nice and how much I liked her outfit. She gasped in horror, screamed, then immediately ran upstairs and changed.

Yes, I will grant my daughter one day’s leave so that she can be a Princess on her wedding day.

However, this is to be for one day only.

She will then be expected to turn back into how I love her best:

…as the hot pepper in my life.

❤

My.Daily.Distraction ~ Post 18: The Mouse That Scored

16 Sunday Nov 2014

Posted by duckykoren in Bakeries, Baking, CheeseCake, Food, Stories

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

Audacious, Bakeries, Baking, Buns, Cheesecake, Food, Foodie, Fortunate, Good Fortune, Happiness, Happy, Lucky, Mouse, Pies, Rolls, Score, Stories, Warehouse

Imagine if you will, a warm and sunny day.

I was out and about in the car for the afternoon when I noticed the bakery tucked away in a remote little corner of town.

This bakery was precious to me as my husband worked there while we were dating.

He drove the delivery van.

At the end of his day the boss would give my boyfriend the go ahead to take home all the leftover pies and rolls to his Mother.

Now it was twenty years later.

It did not look like the same bakery from the street. Curious, I gave the rough exterior the benefit of the doubt. I parked my car and went inside.

Before my eyes adjusted to the lower level lighting I was disappointed that I had not been met by the scent of fresh baked rolls.

I then noticed that I was the only customer in the store. The only other person visible was a burly man leaning against a counter opposite from the cash register.

His arms were folded across his chest. His grim face told me that I was welcome to leave anytime.

This was not the atmosphere of a bakery.

This was a warehouse.

Boxes on the floor were crammed with strange paraphernalia that I knew weren’t cleaning supplies.

Everything was layered with dust.

About half a dozen rolls sat on a ledge behind him. I did not dare ask him how fresh they were.

A single sunbeam coming in from a side window accentuated the swirling dust particles suspended in the air. They were obviously refusing to settle until they had found a clean place to land.

The vats in the back of the store looked like they had been cooking something, but nothing that was for public sale.

Before turning around to leave my eyes landed on three cheesecakes contained inside a dirty glass counter located at the opposite end of the store. The cakes looked strangely out of place.

As I approached the cheesecakes, I noticed a hole in the bottom of the cheesecake to the far left. This hole was about the size of a quarter. I wondered if the shopkeeper had stuck his thumb in it to steal a taste.

I was immediately proven wrong.

In the blink of an eye, a small, brown mouse popped his head out of the hole that I had been studying. His eyes were bright and shiny. His fur looked exceedingly neat for just having been inside a cheese cake. The ends of his whiskers were heavy laden with cheesecake crumbs.

Needless to say, this mouse looked very happy as we continued to stare at each other.

Within fifteen seconds, I experienced emotions that went from shock, to revulsion, to disbelief, and then to amusement.

And as quickly as the mouse had appeared, he suddenly disappeared back inside the cheesecake.

He must have been right at the centre of the cake far from my view, because there was no trace left of him, no tail could be seen, no crumb laden whiskers.

For about two seconds, I considered telling Mr. Stoneface about the mouse. But without a word, I turned around and simply walked out of the store.

Certainly, this mouse, this incredibly lucky, audacious mouse would meet his demise all too soon. If not caught, he would indeed succumb to a fatal case of cheesecake poisoning.

I cannot think of a more wondrous and imaginative way for a mouse to succumb to the inevitable.

May we all be so fortunate.

Adventures in Italy… Post 48: Cesar Ristorante Pizzeria

26 Friday Sep 2014

Posted by duckykoren in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

blogs, Cesar Ristorante, Food, Foodie, Italy, Pizzaria, Restaurants, Rome, Sophia Loren, Travel

image

At first glance upon walking into this restaurant you’ll see a television perched up near the ceiling in a far corner to your left.

The Rockford Files is on and if course, it’s in Italian.

The walls are sporadically decorated with black and white photos, one of which is of Sophia Loren.

My favourite picture is the one where she is holding up a forkful of spaghetti.

It would give me a great deal of satisfaction if I knew that she had stuffed it unceremoniously into her mouth,

…like I do,

…but somehow I doubt it.

The tables and chairs seem like leftovers from the sixties.

So do the plastic menus.

Down the wall to your immediate right is a buffet style counter that stretches down the length of the wall. It doesn’t look like much when you first enter the door.

As you approach this counter to get a closer look, your eyes begin to dance as they focus in on the offered entrees.

The spartan furniture and muted walls are immediately forgotten.

Instead, all you can do is stare at the fine arrays of grilled vegetables in greens, reds, and golds….

Then there’s the lasagne…

Risotto…

Gnocchi…

Herb encrusted chicken…

And my personal favourite…

Eggplant smothered in oozy cheesy goodness.

Once you start filling your plate…

…you can’t stop.

And to wash it all down the house wine is served by the pitcher full, crisp, cold and white.

If you find yourself in Rome, look up Cesar Ristorante Pizzeria on Via Venizia.

Tell them Doris sent you.

It’s worth the plane fare.

Trust me.

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Adventures In Italy… Post 47: The Great Maximus

25 Thursday Sep 2014

Posted by duckykoren in Travel

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Tags

Delis, Dinner, Focaccia bread, Foodie, Rome, Travel

image

After our encounter with the Celtic cabbie, we were just about to head into our hotel when Frank turned around and asked:

“What did you want to do about dinner?”

I cringed at the thought.

Frank and Jen were exhausted, but they were obviously hungry from our all day adventure.

However, I found it hard to even think about food.

Needless to say, none of us wanted to go through the ordeal of deciding on a restaurant…

…getting seated,

…waiting,

…ordering,

…waiting,

…eating,

…waiting for the check.

Then Frank suggested:

“Why don’t we just go to the deli, pick something up, and take it back to the room with us?”

Jen agreed immediately.

I was just too tired to care.

We were very fortunate that our hotel was located in a part of town overrun with fine restaurants, and lots of places to grab a bite.

As a matter of fact, just four doors down from our hotel was a magnificent delicatessen the likes of which I have yet to find in North America.

Nashville may have the Wildhorse Saloon, otherwise known as the world’s longest bar…

…but we were about to belly up to the world’s largest deli counter.

The lavish food counters just went on and on…

From the first moment you walk into the deli, your nose latches onto the smell of fresh bread.

Then after another step you detect smoked meats.

Move a few inches to the right and you are overcome with the heady fragrance of amaretto cookies.

It was an immediate overload to my senses and I found myself backing away from the over embellished counters as to re-establish a regular breathing pattern before I get dizzy.

The store was about the size of your average 7-Eleven but it was stuffed from ceiling rafters to the floor. There was produce, cheeses, meats, wines, cookies, cakes, chocolates and exotic morsels and strange spices which were beyond my limited knowledge of what authentic European foods consist of.

Some of the items hanging from the ceiling I could recognize like ham, salami and various cheeses. Then there were hanging items that I did not recognize, nor did I ask what they were lest I break into tears if the truth be told.

There were no slushy machines behind the counter. Instead there were huge meat, bread and cheese slicers.

The cash register was not working that day, so pencil and paper were utilized to tally up purchases, and with remarkable skill and precision too.

There was no diminutive girl behind the counter but rather, a bear of a man with bushy brown hair who took pride in flexing his arms and muscles to the customers while bellowing out for the entire street to hear:

“I AM THE GREAT MAXIMUS…”

…and he was indeed.

As I lingered over the wine counter I was approached by Maria who treated me like an old friend rather than a mere customer.

I really liked that!

She would walk me up one aisle and down the next as she pointed to the unending treasures lying on the shelves while explaining them to me what they were like a house-proud hostess.

And so at last, the decision had to be made of what we were going to have for dinner.

The consensus was the toasted focaccia sandwiches stuffed with spinach, cheese, olives and salami, garnished with both an olive and tomato bruschetta.

Each sandwich was about 3 euros a pop… which was about $4.50 CDN.

Absolutely worth every penny.

After giving Max our order, in true gladiatorial fashion he proceeded to carve three enormous wedges from a sandwich like pie of sorts. Then he wrapped each sandwich with the gentility of someone who was wrapping cucumber sandwiches for an afternoon tea.

After settling our bill, we turned to leave the store, however, before exiting, the great Maximus called me over and shoved a stuffed paper bag into my hands before proceeding to wave goodbye to us.

Later on, back in our hotel room as we tucked into our dinner I opened the paper bag.

I didn’t have to open the bag to see what he gave us because the heady fragrance had already given the contents away.

The bag was brimming with amaretto cookies.

And so, on that note, our day ended very sweetly indeed.

Nom… nom… nom…

Adventures In Italy… Post 40: A Pompeii Luncheon

17 Wednesday Sep 2014

Posted by duckykoren in Travel

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Tags

Appian Bus Line, Artisans, Cameos, Food, Foodie, Italy, Luncheon, Pompeii, Pranza, Tourism, Tours, Travel

image

When you take a day trip, usually the fare includes a lunch.

And it’s not a bad lunch.

Having been on the Appian Bus Line tour to Naples and Pompeii four years earlier, we had learned what to expect when it comes to lunch, or in the Italian language… “pranza”.

Located almost next to the Pompeii ruins, there is a very large hall that caters to all the Pompeii bus tours.

At any given time, I’m sure that there are at least two hundred people being served, with a major capacity for about five hundred.

Needless to say, it was a very busy place.

When it comes to shuffling patrons in and out of the dining areas, the people who run this hall have it all down to a fine science.

However, before your group is invited inside for their sit down meal, your tour guide obliges you to take a tour of a local merchants warehouse and shop.

On our first tour, it was all about the cameos.

The tour guide presented to you the artisans as they were plying their trade. Then you were encouraged to purchase similar items in their shop.

Frank and I quickly learned where the back door was, and that was the end of that.

On our second tour, the featured items were coral jewelry.

You would be hard pressed to find anything less than one hundred euros.

Again… We quickly located the back door.

Looking back, we found the offered lunch mediocre to what were use to from the restaurants we frequented in Rome. However, this is one of the free perks when you pay 160 euros per person for a 16 hour day trip.

Beverages however, you have to pay for with the exception of water.

And I never did get the Agua frizzante I had ordered. (fizzy water)

To me, this place had more the feel of a cafeteria rather than a fine dining experience.

Our meal began with cannelloni, which arrived at the table still reasonably warm.
And I am happy to report that my first experience with authentic Italian cannelloni was somewhat pleasant.

More so than the pasta that followed, which struck me as your run of the mill pasta in tomatoe sauce.

Then, we had a choice of seafood or roast beef.

I was the only one at the table who was brave enough to order the seafood.

What was I thinking?

The plate that was set before me displayed five pieces of calamari, and three prawns with little black beady eyes staring up at me from my dinner plate.

And very dead ones too I might add.

I was quite tempted to close my own eyes as I was eating.

One of my most favourite movie lines ever, comes from one of the HIGHLANDER movies. It’s the scene, where the character played by Sean Connery is being offered an inflight dinner tray by a stewardess.

His response is:

“I never eat anything that I cannot identify.”

I try to aspire to that same rule as well. However, I’ve added one more rule:

All of my life, I’ve tried to never eat anything from the neck up.

As far as the roast beef was concerned, I could not help but cast my eyes over to Frank and Jen’s plates as they were plated out before them.

And suddenly, I didn’t feel all that bad.

Their roast beef seemed to be sliced so thin that you could almost read a newspaper through it.

At least, when we got to dessert, at last I found myself smiling.

We were served a delicate portion of a very lovely sort of cream cake.

Most sins were forgiven… but not all.

Further, this time I opted not to indulge myself in a glass of wine like I did the first time around.

The wine I had then was very good, Lachryma Christi, made from the grapes grown on Mount Vesuvius. Expensive at 7 euros a glass, but worth every penny.

Further, it seemed a shame to indulge in such a nice wine when eating only mediocre food.

And so, as far as that day’s luncheon was concerned….

…the bottled water did just fine.

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Adventures In Italy… Post 9: Bella Notte

11 Monday Aug 2014

Posted by duckykoren in Travel

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Tags

Bella Notte, blogs, Foodie, Gelato, Italy, Pizza, Rome, Tortellini, Travel

image

About a half an hour after checking into the Hotel Solis, we found ourselves walking out of the doors of the hotel for our first walkabout. We were in good hands, for daughter Jen and I were being led by Rome’s biggest fan… my husband Frank.

The three of us were weary, however a few more hours on our feet and then a nice dinner would ensure a good nights rest.

Although it was late November, the air was pleasant and comfortable. Our sweaters and cowls kept us plenty warm.

There were lots of people in the streets with the same idea in mind, an evening of strolling up and down the sidewalks. In Italy, this is known as the ‘Passegata’ or evening walk.

After stepping outside our hotel, we turned right on Via Cavore and walked to the end of the street. From there we had a fine view of the Coliseum which was straight down the street to our left. To the right was the Forum and Trajun’s Market.

We turned right and headed down Via dei Fori Imperiali. We walked till we could get a good view of what what Italians commonly refer to as “The Wedding Cake” or the Altare della Patria.

image

According to Wikipedia, in English, this translates into “Altar of the Fatherland” also known as the Monumento Nazionale a Vittorio Emanuele II.

Translated, this means: National Monument to Victor Emmanuel II who was Italy’s first King after Unification.

You see, Italy had quite the struggle trying to get all the states on board to become one country. According to scholars, the struggle began in 1815 and lasted till 1871.

It’s a pretty long and dramatic story, one I hope to become eventually more familiar with.

Nevertheless, this is an enormous white marble Monument, the likes of which I have never seen before. It truly does look like a wedding cake.

I’ve included a picture with this blog post, so judge for yourself!

It was at that point that Frank turned us around and we began heading back along the three blocks that would lead us back to our hotel. Knowing Frank, I knew without a doubt we would be revisiting these sights tomorrow.

Frank and I had to wait four years until we were able to come back to Rome. It was a very long wait for us.

And so, you should be able to understand why I found walking the streets of Rome as the sun was setting all very surreal…. the roar of the Vespas, the car fumes, the loud yet odd sounding ambulances, hearing the Italian language and not English.

I had at last found my bliss…

As we walked through the people, traffic, and alongside the ancient buildings, we began to scout for a restaurant. There were many restaurants. They were all wafting of authentic Italian cuisine, but which one?

Finally, we decided on one that we had frequented four years earlier. It had remained my favourite because of their fried zucchini flowers: zucchini blossoms stuffed with cheese and spices and then lightly fried to perfection. I highly doubted that they would be available because it was after all, late fall. I thought that surely, the zucchini flower would be out of season.

Imagine my pleasant surprise to find that yes… they were on the menu.

And so, on our first of twelve evenings in Italy, we feasted on fried zucchini flowers, arancinos and bruschetta for our first course.

Then for our ‘secondi’, Jen had her first authentic Pizza Margherita, while Frank had veal cutlets. I indulged myself with a feast of tortellini in a pesto sauce.

On the way back to the hotel, Jen got herself some chocolate gelato, while Frank and I contented ourselves with a bottle of Italian white wine.

That night, after being awake for almost two days…

…we were in all in bed by seven p.m.

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