Pasta, you see, is a mere conduit for whatever the sauce is that accompanies the pasta, and we have learned that there are very different shapes and sizes of pasta for different sauces. This varies by region, but for example, the pasta called paccheri is one that is used in Milan for seafood dishes. Take a look at this website which describes the “ultimate list of Italian pasta” https://www.nonnabox.com/?s=the+ultimate+list+of+types+of+pasta&post_type=product. This website also provides other interesting information and recipes about Italian cooking. I love to learn about the different aspects of cooking and dishes in Italy.
I’ve also enjoyed learning about “hamsterkaüfe,” which is the German word for the habit of panic buying, to shop and store items like a nervous, bulging-cheeked hamster. What would you hoard and buy that is mostly just to calm your nerves? I can tell you that Kevin bought 3 boxes of red rice on our first trip out. It is nutritious and packed tightly in vacuum packed boxes, so one box goes a long way. We have enough to get us through May, I think! As for me, I tend to buy garlic and onions in bulk. We are going through them like crazy. Practically every dish I cook has garlic in it and what would I do if we ran out???
I wish I could tell you that we have settled into a routine that includes healthy habits and discipline, but each day our activities depend on whether Kevin has a robust teaching schedule and if the weather is gloomy or sunny. Recall that we have a very tiny washing machine and no dryer, so when it is sunny, I feel like we need to take advantage of the sunshine and I will run at least one or maybe two loads of laundry. Each load only allows a few items to be washed, and each load takes from 30 minutes to 90 minutes to run, so that’s half the day. On our back balcony, you see the routine of our neighbors’ washing as well. Mondays seem to be the typical bedsheet washing day, but only if it is sunny. No one has dryers around here, so we are all in the same boat, tied to the whims of the sun.
One source of rhythm and comfort to me is to plan our meals first thing in the morning.
My normal apartment space for writing my blogs and looking things up on the laptop has been taken over by Kevin for his online teaching. We brought a small table from home that Becky used during law school in her apartment for studying, so it’s traveled the globe! Now I hole up in our bedroom or the kitchen while Kevin spreads out on the table from home, painted with magnolia flowers, a common sight in Georgia. I think about the items in our refrigerator and the dry goods we have, and then I either look at some of my favorite recipes for inspiration, or I go to the New York Times Cooking app and type in the main ingredients or two that I have on hand and want to cook with. Thankfully, we have a decent variety of sauces and spices, including those that are not Italian based, such as curry, soy sauce, chili powder, and (when I can get Kevin to go with me and pronounce it for our grocer to understand) cilantro. This lets me switch up what we eat so it’s not just pasta or risotto every night. In Italy grocery stores are allowed to be open, and we are allowed to visit them during the day, provided we maintain a distance of 1 meter between ourselves and others. And interestingly, the definition of what constitutes a grocery store includes bakeries, produce stores, butcher shops, and my personal favorite, enotecas, which are wine shops! Lord help us if we run out of wine!
The other day, Kevin went to our neighboring produce store (which provides us with expensive but good produce and avoids the long lines currently at many of the larger grocery stores) with a list of items I hoped he could secure: eggs, butter and maybe some cilantro were among my desired items. He got the eggs and cilantro with no problem, but when he asked for butter (‘burro’ in Italian), the store owner did not understand him. The owner brought out some strange plant in response to Kevin’s request and it was clear that they were not communicating well. So Kevin spelled the letters in ‘burro’ out loud, in Italian, and the owner then said, in Italian, “OH, BURRO!!” and he promptly pulled out the butter. Kevin thought to himself, “that’s what I said!!! ” But clearly there was a difference in how Kevin said it and how the owner said it. We think Kevin was not pronouncing the “u” correctly. Oh my. It is humbling to try to learn a new language and communicate it well. But we got a laugh out of that.
The streets are empty and the evenings are quiet, but the Italians have gotten into the habit of coming out on their balconies at noon and then at 6 and 9 to either sing or clap or play patriotic music or shine phone lights in solidarity. Sometimes it is in support of the health care workers and other times it is just to say, we are here.
This is my first time living in close quarters with others- our home and yard in Georgia provide space between ourselves and our neighbors. Here I experience upfront and personally the current carpentry work occurring in the apartment next to ours, or I am awakened (when we are not in bar shutdown mode like now) to the sounds of loud customers enjoying a smoke and a drink outside and across the street at “Bonnie Prince Charlie.”
If our neighbors are shouting at one another, we hear it through the walls. If I play my music loudly, my neighbors hear me. And as many of you know from my storytelling from last summer, if I run our washing machine at 4 in the morning, my neighbor below us feels it as well. So the idea that all around me virtually every apartment has one or more occupants laying low like we are is a strange feeling. It is so quiet. As I peer out from our back balcony, I see from time to time our neighboring pizza manager, Marco, and several of the other workers at the pizzeria-we wave and say hello.
We ignore the fact that sometimes you see a neighbor walking the trash out in what resembles pajama bottoms. We are all just trying to get through this. No one we know has been tested positive with the virus, let alone gotten terribly sick, but the daily count we hear on the news tells us that others are not so lucky.
Yesterday I was comforted by hearing the neighboring church bells chime at noon. We hadn’t heard them in a while. We also still hear the trams and buses ramble by our apartment on a regular basis, even though almost no passengers are on them. I suppose that stopping the trams and buses would signal giving up completely, and that is not an option at this time. Plus, I’m sure it enables the police, grocery workers and health care providers to get to their jobs. I would say that for the most part in Milan everyone is abiding by the shutdown rules, and they have been for a while. I just hope it’s enough to get over the growth we still see in the number of new cases and tragic deaths, and we move to a flattening of the curve! Thank you for the calls and emails of concern. We know that Italy is on the minds of many, and now our friends are watching us with increasing concern because it may be a harbinger of things to come in America.
If I could give some little advice, it is to go out and get some things that will bring you joy in confinement- whether that is paint and supplies to be creative, or buying seeds that you can plant. Find something that will occupy your time and also let you mark the period you will be isolated. I’ve planted seeds and started a sourdough starter.
As for me, I’m journalling and reading a book I brought over from America but hadn’t yet found the time to read- Michelle Obama’s book. Just have something set aside that you can pull out and enjoy in a bit. Much of this feeling of anxiety is self-inflicted. I feel anxious just because. The sun is still shining and I can still see it. I just can’t get out and live my life for the moment as before. Find ways to give yourself joy, ok? Ciao for now!
