Last night I was the only girl at an Italian boy's bachelor party. I did not think that I should go, but my boyfriend insisted that I join them. They had kidnapped the groom-to-be about an hour earlier and made him dress up in scuba diving clothes and swim in a dirty little pond. I had been envisioning a night of strippers, but it turned out to be a night of the best seafood in Versilia. We started out at an aperitivo in the port of Viareggio, with 2 bottles of Prosecco, olives, bread with salt and olive oil, and cheese. The boys were eating like there was no tomorrow, which led me to believe that either dinner would be simple, or they were not going to eat dinner. Well, it was neither of the two. We made our way over to another restaurant called Mezzo Marinaio, and there were already 2 opened bottles of the table white wine. Out came two platters each of warm seafood salad, marinated anchovies, scampi, pancotto, and grilled langoustines. I was dipping the whole wheat bread into the olive oil and savoring the anchovies with pickled red onions. I would have been happy with just that, but it was only the beginning.
We moved onto the pasta dishes of linguine with scampi and a parsley sauce, and little tubes (yay!) with chopped up cooked fish in a tomato sauce. Meanwhile, wine was flowing like a river, and I was sitting opposite a man who kept refilling my glass as if it were water. They kept making the bachelor chug his wine, and pretty soon I was starting to get a little concerned. Every platter that arrived at the table left empty. Afterwards, we were served the fritto misto, which came with fried calamari, shrimps, zucchini, and smelt. There is nothing like a great fritto misto with some fresh lemon juice, but if you are not used to eating oily things, like me, it can do a number on your stomach. 10 bottles of wine later (that means probably 1 bottle a person and then some), we were wrapping things up with our Dessert Versilia, which is some sort of ice cream with hard alcohol in it.
Cultural difference: In Italy, even packaged desserts come with really strong alcohol in them, not just the aroma and flavor of what the alcohol tastes like, but the real thing.

I felt like I fit right in last night. I don't think I consumed as much as the boys did, because they really took it upon themselves to go all out, but I definitely held my own at that table, and I am quite proud. Suffering a bit of a hangover, but quite proud.

Fun Fact: In Tuscany (and maybe other parts of Italy) people eat fresh fava beans with seasoned Pecorino cheese. They do not boil the fava beans twice, which is often a technical deterrent for people to eat these gorgeous beans, but just open up the pods and pop them into their mouths. So fun! It is interesting to learn about fava beans and their partners- it seems that different cultures like to eat them with different things. Last Spring I learned that in Damascus they eat fava beans with tarragon, because the two grow up together in the springtime. What other regions have fun fava pairings?

Last night I had a double aperitivo, but it was not that exciting because I only ate the snack at one of the places. Afterwards, Leo and I went to Pietrasanta for dinner. Botero, the Colombian painter and sculptor, has a house in the beautiful artsy town that now features modern sculptures in the centuries old piazza. Among the galleries and boutique hotels is Trattoria Betty, a place that I went to for the first time this past Winter with my father. We enjoyed a simple, yet lovely meal of zucchini timbale, apple and gorgonzola salad, grilled fish, and maccheronetti with zucchini and clams. We tried a Tuscan vermentino wine, as lately I have fallen in love with the light bodied white variety. It is originally from Sardinia, but they make it in Tuscany as well, and we wanted to try a regional vineyard. For dessert we headed to the boardwalk of Lido di Camaiore, where we enjoyed a gelato each. I had hazelnut and chocolate. The chocolate was darker than most places dare to go, and I appreciated every lick. Just another night on the Tuscan Riviera.

My boyfriend, Leo, is from the coastal area of Versilia. His mother is from northern Italy, from the town of Stresa on Lago Maggiore. His father was from the area surrounding Lucca, a jewel of a city slightly north of Pisa. Last night we went to Leo's father's aunt's house for dinner. Her whole family was there, including her daughters and their husbands, grandchildren, and great grandson. When we arrived it was late, and so within the first few minutes we were seated at the long dining room table that was set for a banquet. "Try our focaccina, we made it here!" aunt Nicla urged. I took a little piece of the homemade focaccia, which was richly endowed with olive oil. "Try some mortadella and Parmesano with the focaccina!", very soon I was double fisting my antipasti. There is nothing like eating at someone's home in Italy.
Prosecco was poured, and the first dish of lasagne with asparagus and bechamel sauce came out. It has taken me all of these years, but I have finally fallen in love with lasagne. I had even made my own lasagne at home, and thought it was pretty good, until I came to Italy. See, I had been making my own lasagna based on what all the other lasagne dishes around me looked like. In the States, lasagna is made of a few layers of pasta divided by vast expanses of filling. Whether it is meat, ricotta, or bechamel, there is more filling than pasta layers, which has always made the dish too heavy for me. However, here in Italy, lasagne is made with many soft layers of pasta, barely separated by a thin sauce that makes the pasta layers fall around the plate loosely. The theme ingredient is not so much a filling, but rather something that laces the sauce. Last night it was asparagus. When I was in Bologna, the sauce was tomato with a little bit of meat in it. Eating lasagne here has been a complete revelation.
I am realizing that I could write a whole entry on just lasagne, but I must continue. After the pasta came the secondi, a sort of chicken stew with carrots and onion, which was very tasty. It was not a typical dish, but as I learned during the meal, that particular family has a catering business, and it was one of their own recipes. On the side was delicious spinach, the kind my father would die and go to heaven if he ate. And fresh peas. Because the meals always begin with pasta, there is no need for rice or potatoes while eating the secondi. It might happen on occasion in a restaurant, but it is rare at home. After the chicken, there was roast beef, but I could not eat any more. For dessert, we poured Vin Santo and passed around cantuccini (little baby biscotti) to dip in the sweet wine. Vin Santo is one of my favorite things about Italy, and I had often heard that it was tradition to drink it with the little cookies, but I had never done it myself. I was so excited to have taken part in an authentic "Tuscan" ritual. We sat around for a while longer, talking and enjoying the company before heading home. Lucca is not only a little jewel of a city with beautiful architecture and gorgeous shop windows, but also part of a rich gastronomic area known as the Garfagnana. I was lucky to have been invited to dinner there!

This past weekend we went to the Slow Food Film Festival in Bologna, Italy. The film festival had begun last Wednesday, but we started our viewing sessions yesterday afternoon. Our first show at 4 pm was a compilation of short comedic segments taken from old television programs. We were happy to discover that they were selling "Slow Snacks", a variety of artesinal crackers, cookies, nuts, chocolates, and cheese for people to munch on during the shows. Before every movie we bought a few, which did not last much longer than the introduction! The Slow Snacks were the organization's answer to the junk food that is typically sold at movie theaters around the world, which are full of fat and sugar, and symbolize the American diet that is causing such grave problems as obesity. In the early evening we enjoyed an aperitivo in the courtyard, while eating more slow snacks. Our favorite was this little cracker called Scaldatelli, which was crunchy and flavored with either almonds or anise. They were so delicious, especially accompanied by some authentic Parmesan cheese.
Then at night we headed over to another theater for the showing of "A Table in Heaven", a movie about Sirio Maccioni, legendary owner of Le Cirque 2000. The movie was about Sirio handing over the restaurant to his 3 sons, or at least incorporating them more in his business. The filming took place when Sirio closed down the original Le Cirque and was working on opening the new Le Cirque 2000. I learned a thing or two about how Tuscan families are, especially they way in which they discuss tough issues. Oooph, I better get ready! My favorite scene was when Sirio asked Henry Kissinger's opinion about where he should open the new restaurant, Central Park West, or the Bloomberg building? Afterwards, everyone headed over to Mambo (Bologna's Modern Art Museum) for Spaghetti a la Bolognese (which I learned is apparently a mythical dish), and Zuppa Inglese (which apparently is not). This morning we woke up and went to see the documentary shorts competition. One of the films which we both really liked was about raw milk, and the battle of one Ontarian farmer, Michael Schmidt, to sell raw milk to informed consumers who wished to drink it. The main issue there was how involved a government should be in its people's diet, and the human right to decide what one will consume. Another short we saw was about a Norwegian man who specialized in culling and salting cod, which was going to earn him the esteemed Slow Food Presidia award. He would have to share his secrets with competitors, giving up knowledge he had learned his whole life, in order to create a market viable enough to compete against China.
Afterwards, we walked around Bologna, enjoyed more pasta with "Bolognese" sauce before heading home.