[missing header - to be completed...]

Well, it really doesn't have anything to do with the title, except a parenthetical inspiration: slug=snail. Just so much bad news lately about government secrecy, power plays, invasive control freaks (so much for transparency and change), how can one not have Atlas on the mind anytime the news comes on.



These are bovoeti, or little snails, rinsed abundantly (they are sold so fresh they're alive - keep an eye on them so none escape - and no, I'm not kidding) boiled until a little foam starts rising, and then cooled and tossed with copious amounts of garlic and parsley.

Simple huh?

Simply delicious!


P.S. you usually use a toothpick to get all of it out of the shell... and that is close to 0,75 KG (poundandahalf, more or less) which I finished off all by myself (not one straight sitting, but close...)

Dear Sirs,
I was appalled that your Mr. Letterman, in his Late Night show, would comment on the sitting Alaska Governor Sarah Palin's young, minor aged daughter in such a flippant, disrespectful and completely inappropriate manner as he recently has done, not just once, but several times.
I truly hope that his children present and future are never subjected to such crass public degradation as Mr. Letterman has inflicted upon her child for doing something as simple, and some would say so traditionally American as going to a baseball game with her parent.
Truly an all time low for someone who I once considered a creative entertainer, but who clearly has burnt out and reached the end of his useful career.
I would strongly suggest termination, or at least firing him.
Kindest regards,
A long time (now ex-) fan of David Letterman

UPDATE: PS to be added...
sorry, it doesn't really matter to me which daughter was the target of the joke. If "The Annointed One" 's children are off limits for jokes, then an ex-candidate that is doing nothing other than her State job's good is not subject anymore.
Oh well, another on bites the dust.

Found a bunch of these on a site talking blasphemously about the Flying Spaghetti Monster represented by false icons:

In the best of all possible worlds....
you will be escorted by the Germans, fed by the French, and entertained by the British.
In the worst of all possible worlds...
you will be escorted by the French, fed by the British, and entertained by the Germans!
[escorted?]

BEST: You have a French cook, a British policeman, an Italian lover, a German mechanic, and a Swiss banker.
WORST: You have a British cook, a German policeman, a Swiss lover, a French mechanic, and an Italian banker.

Heaven is a place where the police are English; the chefs are Italian; the car mechanics are German; the lovers are French and it’s all organized by the Swiss.
Hell is a place where the police are German; the chefs are English; the car mechanics are French; the lovers are Swiss and it’s all organized by the Italians.

As we continue on our culinary wandering through the alleyways of Venice...

At lunch time many of the same places which have a spread of croissants, brioches, and pastries in the morning serve sandwiches and baked goods, like mini (2inch-ish) pizzas, or slices of pizza, or panini, or other, more localized fare.

One variety of specialty sandwich, which varies in composition and construction in different areas of Italy, but is especially popular in Venice, is the "tramezzino" (which is the diminutive form of the term tramezzo used in the building trades for internal partition walls, usually made with plasterboard on studs!). It is thin, crustless, white bread (a little moister and softer than typical American white bread) premade, cut into triangles and available with a variety of possible fillings: tuna salad with either olives, or onions, or hard-boiled egg; crabmeat, or shrimp with rucola or lettuce; porchetta (pork-roast) or pancetta (a bacon-y pork cold cut) or turkey or bresaola (cured beef, sort of prosciutto, but from cows) with grilled zucchini or eggplant, or with asparagus, or hard-boiled egg or mushrooms "sott'olio" (preserved in oil).
They also have several variations on what they call "insalata russa", literally "Russian salad". It is kind of a poor-man's egg or potato salad, as it usually has some potatos or eggs, but cut much smaller and in much lesser proportions than what North Americans usually push as the equivalent "salads", and with much more mayonnaise. There are more vegetables, and variations of "piccante" (spicy) with a little pepper, black or red or paprika, and "zingara" (gypsy) with a little tabasco and pickled (actually vinegar preserved) vegetables.

One linguistic aside that comes to mind thinking of preserved foods: preservatives in Italian is said "conservanti". It is not translated with the "false friend" (a word which seems the exact equivalent in two languages, but which can have drastically different meanings). In fact, in Italian "preservativo" isn't a preservative, but a thin stretchy male contraceptive originally made from sheepskin.

Here in the northeast, tramezzini are smaller and plumper, while in the northwest and further south, they tend to be flatter and wider, sometimes with a third slice of bread in the middle (kind of a club sandwich, but without all the good club sandwich filling).

Here in Venice, there is also a specialty that is found no where else (unless in imitation). These little snacks are called "cichetti", which are similar, in concept at least, to the Spanish tapas: little bite sized finger-food which you can have one at a time as an accompaniment to an aperitivo (in Venice that might be an "ombra" or small bulb-glass of white wine from a caraffe) or several together as a light meal. The typical "cichetteria" (the name of the bar that serves this particular specialty) has a spread of these treats from which to choose. Some are lunch-time places (often offering snacks to construction and market-workers late-morning) and some are open for late afternoon "happy-hour" before returning home.

The variety can be astounding, both within one cichetteria, and between nearby cichetterie (in the area around the fruit, vegetable and fish markets of Rialto, cichetterie abound, often side by side with only the slightest hint of problems of competition: there is room for all of them!).

The cichetto is based on a piece of either sliced bread or sliced polenta (usually, but not always the more solid "loaf-like" version). On top is laid a piece or combination of pieces of other ingredients, according to the fantasy and creativity of the cook. From as simple as a light swipe of butter and a half sardine fillet, or a piece of porchetta and dollop of mustard, to bacala mantecato (salted cod-fish mixed with cream).

Maybe for the fried breaded mozzarella and anchovie or mozzarella and prosciutto sandwiches it's better waiting at this point...

One other linguistic aside: the singular form of sandwich in Italian is "panino". Panin is the plural form, and means "sandwiches". So you can't actually eat a panini, at least it's not grammatically correct to do so. You can eat a panino, or eat two (or more, if you're hungry enough) panini. Or if your in Italy you can also have a "toast", which is neither a "brindisi" like "cheer cheer" or "salute" (which means "health", shortened from "to (y)our health") nor a slice of simple heat-browned bread, but basically a grilled cheese, or grilled cheese with baked ham slice sandwich.

So, a dear friend from far away asked "so what are the coffee shops like there?"

So, I'll try to describe it...

Italy is rich with different varieties of places where people gather and (more or less briefly) enjoy each other's company in the presence of either drink or food or both, a little similar to the Coffee Bar concept in the States.

Some areas have specialties as well, as the "cichetterie" in Venice.

A randomly ordered list of the types of locales, most of which serve coffee at one point or another during the day:

• bar
• caffetteria (NOT a "cafeteria" like in the States)
• caffé
• torrefazione (coffee roaster)
• snackbar
• chiosco (often an adapted trailer)
• pasticceria (pastry shop)
• cichetteria (only Venice)
• birreria
• birrificio (microbrewery)
• pub
• enoteca (wine bar)

And some descriptions of some typical visits (more or less chronologically through the day):

Many Italians have breakfast out at a bar, with cappuccino & brioche (basically a croissant). The brioche is often filled though, with cream, or marmalade, or chocolate, or nutella hazelnut cream, or sometimes berry jelly. There are usually drier crumbly cookies as well to choose from. Instead of a cappuccino, some have only coffee (served in a little demitasse cup), or caffe macchiato (served in the same cup), or a macchiatone (less milk than the cappuccino, but served in a cappuccino cup, about the size of a small American coffee cup), or latte macchiato (steamed milk in basically an iced tea glass, more milk and less coffee than cappuccino), or latte caldo (as the previous but no coffee). All of these can be made with decaf too, or with "orzo" (barley malt, I think kinda' like malt-o-meal, but I'm not positive as I don't like it) or lately with Ginseng Coffee. On the espresso, there are sub-varieties too, based on personal preferences: caffe ristretto (short-shot – less coffee and more concentrated as it's the first water to pass the grounds), caffe lungo ("looong" – filled out almost to the brim of the cup and slightly weaker tasting, although the caffeine content is actually more than the others).

Many of the above places serve drinks as well as coffee during the day and into the evening, so you have no trouble getting a caffe "corretto" if you were to want it: a small amount of liquor, usually brandy or grappa, is added to the espresso cup, filling it to the rim. I remember my first stay in Milan with the University program, and we had a "field trip" by rented bus leaving at 0darkSomething in the morning, and going into the bar under our hotel for a cappuccino as we waited for everyone, and I saw for the first time someone being poured the brandy, which with the heat of the coffee and small hotel bar-corner, and sleepiness immediately spread out up and opened our nostrils and eyes. Imagine the surprise as we boarded the bus to see our bus driver, the man having the caffe corretto!

Heading south, coffee is often served with a small, slightly larger than shot-glass sized serving of water, which, depending on who you listen too, is for drinking before (to remove impurities and leave the mouth clean for the full coffee taste experience) or after (to rinse all the coffee out, to enjoy the last drop and avoid that it gets old in your mouth, ruining the experience later with aftertaste).

As the day moves along, there is often a coffee break at the local bar, but sans-sweets. Less rich and less eventful, more chitchat and maybe running into (intentionally or otherwise) friends that work in nearby offices.

Coming up in another post: lunch time

Now I'm scared...

Sounds like one of those "Brenda and Eddy" marriages, if you ask me, but with a couple of over-the-hill washed-up Hollywood octegenarian Love Boat thrice recycled has-beens as the main protagonists.



So what is a politician doing meddling in mergers and acquisitions of privately held companies (well, except that before being a politician, he was a lawyer, sort of, and they are almost worse than politicians in keeping their fingers out of the pie...)?

And how would Berlusconi get off as "proud" that the Italian state subsidized car manufacturer has just bought a fifth, potentially increased to a controlling interest, in a bankrupt, out of control, irreperably damaged, outdated car manufacturer that hasn't turned a decent profit in godknowshowlong and maybe a little before then? even.

so we discovered a new treat at the butcher shop the other day: pre-made (well almost) sausage sandwiches.

To beat the old humdrum sameold-sameold, they took a piece of french bread baguette, hollowed out the fluffy white part in the middle, and stuffed it with fresh sausage filling. That's the premade part.

The home assembly portion is cutting of slices, bread and stuffing both at the same time, and then pan frying the single slices with a dollopette of butter or oil until the sausage is sufficiently cooked.

I'm guessing that a toaster oven would work as well, and be a little healthier to boot, but hey, why am I going to the health club three times a week if I can't use it to make up for situations like this?

Fun, if a bit messier than a traditional sausage sandwhich where the french roll protects the hands instead of adding to the greasiness. Oh well, definitely worth the extra cleanup.

a real patriot act

There may be hope yet

A volte vorrei che vivesse ancora in Lombardia, quelle sono davvero persone fortunate:


Hanno passato le nuove misure "salvatempo", e riutilizzano il 31 marzo per due giorni di seguito (anche se il calendario e' molto poco leggibile - alla faccia di algoritmi accessibili).

Happy April Fool's Day (from them, not me, the image is really from their site this morning). You just can't make this stuff up.

UPDATE:
P.S. and the view on April first morning:

oh well...

Compare:

to:

The first, from the White House's Official Site for the video (actually it's "The Briefing Room" section's subsection entitled "The Blog" - sounds kinda' creepy: maybe the title for some Heroes episode) instead of the YouTube you linked to, there is a version with the video framing reduced and a Presidential Seal background border, with Persian subtitles hard coded and with a much more closely cropped 3:4 "regular" TV proportions within the embedded player.

End result, the US Flag clearly visible in the background in several of the wider zooms of the widescreen YouTube video, as it often (usually?) is in Presidential speeches, gets cropped out, and never appears in the WhiteHouse.Gov video.

Coincidence, or maybe just an inattentive video-operator and post-op film editor? I wonder if the typical Nowruz feast includes seafood, as it sure smells sorta' fishy...