Two Hands

Exactly 10 days, or two hands, until I'm leaving, on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again, oh babe I hate to go. Sorry, song over, I distract myself sometimes. Anyway, 10 days! And the countdown is on. Any time I get to the end of something, the end of summer vacation, the end of the semester, the end of a job, I start to hate it. I just can't help it, it's how I cope with ending things; if I make myself resent it, then it's not so hard to leave. Every time I leave home to go back to school, my mom and I start bickering non-stop. That way it's not such a painful goodbye. So that's how I feel about Italy right now. Every morning, when I take the 44 bus to school with every single high-schooler/middle-schooler in the area and all the people going to work, and a bunch of obnoxious kids stand in my closest possible personal space (like actually, someone will stand as if were taking a prom photo, like I should reach down and put my arms around them (and I say reach down because I am the single tallest person on the bus, every time)), I just wanna scream. Sweating profusely on the bus before going to school and climbing approximately 84 steps to class (there's no elevator, that's allowed here), just isn't cute. So alas, Italy and I are breaking up. But not before we have one last hurrah and remember all the good times.

(cappuccino from the Archi Bar across from school)

Aww look at the coffee heart, my cappuccino maker guy loves me. I love him too, he makes the best cappuccinos in all the land. This is something I'll miss. Not that I'm not looking forward to Starbucks, because trust me every time I see a mupload including the beloved brand, I want to reach my hand into my laptop screen and steal their drink. I plan on double fisting an iced skinny caramel latte and a veinti shaken sweetened iced green tea as soon as I get home. Those probably won't taste very good mixed together, but I don't even think I'll mind.

(apples out front at a local frutteria)

I will also miss the produce here. I don't personally eat apples (sometimes I'm allergic and I have trouble swallowing them), but do you SEE the size of that apple?! Of course you see it, it's the size of my head. And that's saying something because I have a fairly large head. But actually, if you put your two fists together, that would be approximately the same size (the apple might be bigger). When my parents were here, they couldn't get over the size of the produce. The eggplants are the length of my forearm, the peppers are the size of a sneaker, even the eggs are monster-sized. I guess it's just something in the water.

(carciofi bruschetta con parmesan)

Since we're running out of nights to go out to dinner, we have to choose wisely. Last night we went to Ciccia Bomba (I went there with my parents also) and I had hands down the best form of bruschetta, well, ever. The bread was crisped to perfection, and atop it sat a thick layer of "artichoke cream," as they called it. Then on top of that sat tons of shaved parmesan with a drizzle of olive oil. I'm going to try to recreate the dish, as it seems simple enough: boil an artichoke until it can be smushed with a fork, put it in a food processor with a touch of heavy cream and salt, pulse until it's thick and spreadable. It was such a unique use of artichokes - they're really big on them here.

(rigatoni alla gricia - rigatoni with black pepper, pecorino romano and pancetta)

(calzone con melanzane e mozzarella - calzone with eggplant and mozz)

Just some other lovely dishes/blog-worthy-pictures from the meal. Anyway, it's the final countdownnnn (here I go singing again, I don't know why I'm in such a sing-song mood tonight, good thing I'm not singing out loud or my roommate's ears would be bleeding). I'll be posting as much as possible in the next week and a half to get in all my last Italy shots before I bore you with the most repetitive pictures of sushi once I get home. Since that's all I plan on eating. For the rest of my life. Ciao for now!