There is no other summer fruit that appeals to me to bake, eat with cereal, or just pop in the mouth one after one after one than the lovely blueberry. It changes texture and taste with baking, makes the color of the fruit intensify, and not to mention that the this is the peak season to purchase and bake with blueberries.

I know that blueberry pies are some of the best tasting dessert in the world. Add buckles, cobblers, betties, and crumbles. But how about muffins? Moist with the addition of sour cream, tangy with a touch of orange zest, and bursting with summer goodness of blueberries.

So here is a recipe I love to bake year after year. It takes virtually minutes to assemble, about 20 minutes to bake and then moments to devour. It is a classic.
Save it, put in a safe place to return to after the first of the season’s berries appear in the market. For breakfast, brunch or just because it’s summer and you need an excuse to use up the berries on the bush or in the fruit drawer of the fridge.

BLUEBERRY ORANGE SOUR CREAM MUFFINS

2 cups baking unbleached flour
¾ cup sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon kosher salt
2 ounces (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, melted
1 - 1 1/4 cups sour cream
1 large egg
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
Zest of 1 large orange
2 cups fresh blueberries

Topping
2 tablespoons raw sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Place 12 paper muffin liners in a 12-cup muffin tin. In a medium bowl, combine the flour, sugar, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. In another bowl, whisk the butter, 1 cup sour cream, egg, vanilla extract, and orange zest. Add the dry ingredients to wet ingredients, stir just to combine. Add 1 cup of the sour cram at first and then add more if batter is too dry. Do not over mix. Stir in the blueberries. Divide the mixture among the muffin cups. In a small bowl, combine the raw sugar and cinnamon. Sprinkle the muffins with the raw sugar mixture. Bake on middle rack of preheated 400o oven for 18-20 minutes. Cool slightly before serving. Makes 12 muffins.

I had an amazing cool and most satisfying summer cocktail at Takashi the other night, a very popular, high energy sushi house downtown Salt Lake City. Getting in on a Friday night is almost impossible after 7 pm unless you know Takashi or you are Wilfred Brimley (yeah, he was there.)

I had to come home and try to duplicate this summer sensation that went down way too easily. Even before the first dish of crispy spicy calamari was completely gone, so was my drink.

So here is my interpretation. It was a hit with my “landscape designer”, a person I have come to know very well over the last few months of front yard upheaval. But, that’s another story. He was impressed with the drink. So much so that he wants the recipe. So, Dean, here it is.

MINT SIMPLE SYRUP
1 cup water
1 cup sugar
1 cup fresh mint leaves

Bring to a boil, reduce heat to a simmer and cook on low for 5 minutes. Turn off heat and allow to steep for 20 minutes. Strain the mint leaves from the syrup.

1 mini cucumber (not peeled) or 1 medium cucumber, peeled and cut into small pieces
3 cups ice cubes

Place in blender and crush the cubes with the cucumber.

4 ounces good quality vodka
juice of 1 large lime
ice cubes
club soda

Garnish: lime slices, mint leaves

For 2 cocktails:
In a martini shaker, place the crushed ice and cucumber mixture. Add 2 ounces of mint simple syrup, the 4 ounces of vodka, lime juice and shake well. Strain into 2 highball glasses filled 1/2 way with ice cubes. Top off with club soda. Stir well. Garnish with lime slices and mint leaves.

Don’t want to turn on the oven? Heat the grill? Kitchen too steamy for supper?

Don’t despair. I have a simple summer dinner solution you will LOVE. Guaranteed.

Soup. Yes, soup. For supper. Cold, cool gazpacho. Whipped up in the blender or food processor; chilled for a few hours, served with a few cooked shrimp on top or a sprinkling of fresh crab meat. Fancy but simple.

First, get out the food processor. Or blender.

Then place the following in the bowl of processor:

1 large English cucumber, partially peeled and coarsely chopped or 3 mini cucumbers, coarsely chopped
1 green bell pepper, cored and coarsely chopped
1/4 red onion, coarsely chopped
1 jalapeno pepper, cored and chopped
1 cup fresh cilantro leaves
28 ounce can San Marzano whole peeled tomatoes with liquid
1 teaspoon kosher salt
2 quarts (64 ounces) 100% vegetable juice
juice of 2 limes

Pulse on and off until vegetables are chopped to 1/2″ pieces, not pureed.
Transfer to a bowl; taste for seasoning. Chill until ready to serve in soup bowls or martini glasses with:

3-4 cooked shrimp or 1 heaping tablespoon fresh crab meat on top for each serving
1 avocado, peeled and cut into 1/2″ cubes
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, coarsely chopped
1 lime, cut into 8 wedges

This recipe will serve at least 8. And it will taste better the next day. So leftovers will be most welcome. Serve with crusty bread or warmed tortillas.

I taught many classes using ricotta, the cheese of choice for all things delicious in Sicily, the last few weeks since returning from that gorgeous island (think cannoli!). I had about 1 cup of the whole milk creaminess remaining in a container. One lemon in the fruit bowl. And some Bisquick in the cupboard. Of course, skim milk and eggs are always hanging out in the fridge.

So, yesterday, I needed a hearty breakfast after working out at the gym and facing a cozy indoor Sunday with torrents of rain, wind and just plain awful weather for a Memorial Day weekend. Summer will have to wait, but brunch will not.

For the fluffiest, tastiest pancakes ever, try these restaurant favorites. I have seen Lemon Ricotta Pancakes on many a menu lately, but nothing compares to my homemade version. Easy, light, ethereally tangy. Kids will love the sweet lemon taste but never guess there is ricotta cheese in the mix. It will be your special Sunday morning breakfast with a little twist. Serve with berries of choice, grilled sausages, freshly squeezed o.j. and steaming mugs of java. Buon Appetito!

STACKED AND READY TO EAT!

LEMON RICOTTA PANCAKES

2 cups Bisquick (yes, I use this handy-dandy mix)
1 large egg
1 1/4 cups milk (I use skim milk)
zest of 1 lemon, finely grated (about 1 heaping teaspoon)
1/2 cup whole milk ricotta

butter
warmed maple syrup
fresh blueberries

In a mixing bowl, combine the Bisquick, egg, milk, lemon zest, and ricotta. With a wire whisk, beat until smooth. You might need to a add more milk if you like your pancakes thinner. You decide.
Heat a grill pan over medium heat, rub with butter and make pancakes as large as desired (I like the 4″ diameter size, personally.)
Drizzle with warmed maple syrup and a dollop of butter and sprinkle the top with fresh blueberries. Makes about 12-14 pancakes.

LEMON RICOTTA PANCAKES

This is a down day for us, not much going on except a day in Siracusa, an historic location of ruins and churches. Pretty much on our own today, after being dropped off in town, we wandered the streets of Siracusa to be part of a union demonstration complete with banners, flags, drums, horns, red hats and marching union workers. Italian government at work. Or lack thereof.
If I had my druthers, Siracusa would not have been on the tour. I found it to be an unkempt town, except for the market, not a place I relished. Touristy. Dirty. Not especially attractive, except for the piazza and the Duomo. I know it has historic value, the ruins, etc. but once again, the tourist buses in the plaza along with all the kitschy junk for sale, it was a turn off.
A good day to just sit back and enjoy the countryside on the ride back to the hotel. Dinner on Friday night was our last night together at the hotel. A special menu had been planned for the group, from appetizer to dessert. We said our goodbyes, exchanged emails and off to bed, for some had 4 am wake up calls for their ride to Catania left at 4:30 am for the 7:00 am flight to Rome.
I, on the otherhand, slept in on Saturday, had breakfast, sat by the pool and then met Renee Restivo in Noto for a little cappuccino and pastry at Caffe Siciliana. Noto is a gorgeous Baroque town, with over 40 churches of historic interest. Trees on the main corso are manicured perfectly.
The streets are so narrow that only a few cars can manage to drive on them. Ape trucks, little toy like pick up trucks, can really maneuver these roads. Noto was a dream town to walk, eat and people watch. Not to be missed.
By Saturday night I was ready to pack and get ready to move on to Alcamo in the morning. I said my farewell to Renee around 4 pm, after a most delectable lunch in an obscure location in town.
A good night’s sleep and I was ready to start a whole new adventure for another week in northeastern Sicily.

Now back to touring food and wine cities. The van took all of us to Marzemimi, a fishing village not too far from Noto, on the water and the most picturesque little seaside shops.
First stop was the shop of Capisi products - a local manufacturer who sells his wares in his own shop - everything from jars of tuna to capers, tomatoes, sardines, salt, and olive oil. He does it all, and has for 5 generations. Mr. Salvatore Capisi is proud of his family’s history and as it is passed from generation to generation. We toured his manufacturing plant, tasted his products and then off to Ispica for a lunch that we will never forget.\
Held in a restored Mercato - the old fish market - this building is a restoration miracle. Gorgeous lighting, decor, floors, windows, plants, tables, a bar, a restaurant, a kitchen to kill for, and the most incredible food we have ever tasted. They were awaiting our visit around 1 pm, for lunch (prenza). Tables were set, as usual, with china, crystal, silver, flowers. Wine bottles appeared. Water was poured by a staff of workers one could only hope to have in their restaurants.
First course, prepared by a chef who is known for his eclectic take on Sicilian cuisine, was scampi (2 large ones) marinated in olive oil and garlic, then a shrimp and orange salad, next to a medallion of swordfish with Capisi capers, olive ol and lemon. In a martini glass was grilled octopus and fava beans which were pureed (beans, not octopus). At least 1/2 the group were reluctant to eat it, but not Renee or me. It was crunchy with the octopus and the smooth texture of the beans was a pleasant contrast. Lovely.
Next course - freshly made ricotta ravioli with deep, dark black squid ink sauce. At first glance, not the most appetizing of dishes, but the flavors worked. Not too fishy, yet tangy, and the creamy ricotta filling in the freshly made ravioli was divine. Finished that one off.
Next course - two more pastas. Yah. One, calamari shaped pasta (rings) with swordfish was so flavorful with the playfulness of the rings of pasta did the swordfish justice. Other pasta, another tomato based dish of cavatelli with vegetables, was good, a little heavy as cavatelli tends to be, but not to be passed up.
Our desset of chocolate mousse and then another one of cannoli were quintessential Sicilian. Of course, all the while wines were being poured and then caffe. By 4 pm, we were done. No more. Basta.
Back to the bus and a quick run through the town…lovely, clean little village. Back to the town of Marzemini where we walked the pier and Alfonso seranded us, by the water, with classic Sicilian songs - and he had a gathering of passersby as he sang.
Alfonso is a renaissance man - he drives us in a van expertly, married to an archeologist, runs for local office, sings in a band, and has done more to promote his hometown of Noto than almost anyone. He knows everyone and he is proud to be Sicilian. He’s a treasure trove of historical information. Renee is lucky to have Fonzi, as we called him, to drive us around the area. No little feat, for sure.

Wednesday with Lemons and Oregano Tour
This day promised to be a day of culture and landscape. It didn’t disappoint. The group was only 5 today - a couple decided to take the day off as did the NYC ladies, to sit by the pool just chill.
Off we went to Vezzini, a town that has for all intense and purposes, died from lack of population. The old part of the city is like a ghost town, inhabited by the elders of Vezzini, with the younger generation moving to the outskirts to newer housing. It was noted by one of our local guides, that a house in the old section of town can be purchased for 20,000 Euros, or about $35K, if you desire a home with much work to be done in the center of town.
We visited a museum featuring the works of Verga, a famous Sicilian author and composer. The town, due to its quaintness, quiet atmosphere and lack of population, has been the location of many movies. We toured churches and then off to an Osteria where the tourist office (they are trying!!) served us a lunch of local products, from cheeses to breads to salumi.
It was rustic; it was delcious. Pasta with tomato sauce and local ricotta; and for dessert, pastries of the area - cannoli, cassata, cookies and of course, limoncello. Vino rosso from the local vineyards was served in ceramic pitchers from our next visit, Caltagironi, the ceramic town. We left Vezzini feeling a little sorry for this village of dying population and hope that at some point, it will be revived. One touching moment, as we were walking the streets, an elderly woman with a shawl (cue the grandma with shawl, please) was hanging out her laundry on her balcony, two stories up. One of us wantedto take her picture and we asked it was okay. Sure, she said, but only if you take me back with you to America. She had never left this town in all her years. it was a poignant moment.
On to the next stop, Caltagironi, a more vibrant city known for ceramics, filled with tourists (not sure if this is a good thing or not…) taking pictures of everything and everyone. Busloads of tourists filling the shops with obnoxious behavior - let’s just say, thankfully, not Americans. Other rude countries.
We walked the town square, visited a ceramic factory and bought a few trinkets before heading back home to the hotel. No agritourismos today, just quaint towns and locale fare.

Tuesday - A Day with the Perfect Man - Enzo
After another breakfast at the hotel of cappuccino, fruit (usually a local orange), sliced ham and cheese, and bread of some sort, we were off to see “the perfect man” as Renee, the tour organizer, speaker of Sicilian, and food historian was touting him. “Wait, just wait” she said.
Out in the country of Noto was another agritourismo, a little more rustic than the day before’s setting. Donkey on premises, lots of wild things - turkeys, chickens, hens, etc., and the rooms, well, let’s say they are great for college students on a trip to Sicily and roughing it. Not for middle aged women and men used to more luxuriuos accomodations.
Enzo made a grand entrance and greeted us walking down a hill, donned in a white sweatershirt over a perfectly ironed light blue window-paned check shirt, black cargo pants, and…white boots. White rubber boots that are no doubt cleaned every night because they were pretty much immaculate at 10 am. His silver head of perfectly coiffed hair was cut alla Andrea Bocelli-esque. His tanned face and dark brows along with very white teeth set off the image of that Italian-made man. Yeah, he was close to perfection. Okay, back to work.
He proudly showed us around his property, a setting that would make most of us want to buy the next farmhouse available next door. Acres of lemon and orange trees, almond trees, fig trees, turkeys and hens and chickens, an herb garden, roses, olives (yes, he makes his own olive oil) and oh did I mention, he also makes his own soap? He also has a professional kitchen very rare in these parts where he has his chef (Patrizia) cook the meals for the agritourismo and often entertains large groups of various organizations from Noto in his addition to the farmhouse which seats about 30.
We learned about the three types of lemons he grows on this property, the olives he will be harvesting in the fall, and the various herbs he grows for his jams, jellies and soaps. Oh yeah, did I mention he also bottles his own jams and jellies?
After the tour, the group (only 7 of the 10 - three women from NYC decided to stay back at the hotel for a day of rest) gathered in the kitchen and with the help of Patrizia, we made our first course of marinated fresh anchovies in olive oil (Enzo’s) and kosher salt. Then we peeled potatoes, sliced the oranges for the salad, and made a layered second course of smashed potatoes and anchovies and breadcrumbs torta. For dessert, there was a deconstructed cannoli. I loved every bite, every fresh anchovy, every drop of Enzo’s olive oil, every little bit of that meal, sitting next to Enzo and helping him with his English. Basta!

Sicily Day Two of the Lemons and Oregano Tour
Waking to a beautifully cool morning on Monday to news of OBL’s demise, we were all a little chatty in the van to our first stop of the day - ricotta making in the country. Breakfast was convivial with so many questions, but yet we were not so concerned with events in the USA as to where we were headed on this glorious morning. Funny how distance creates disinterest.
First stop in the country was the ricotta making in a barn that was the home to a family of cheesemakers. The fresh ricotta was boiling in a cauldron over a woodburning flame in the barn. Yes, a fire in the barn, and boy did the interior not disguise years of this process. Soot and dark wood with years of buildup of such processes seemed to bear well. The ricotta production is a four hour process, from milking the cows to the retreiving of the rennet to make the cheese. We saw only the last 30 minutes or so, the slow stirring of the pot and the tasting of the final product. It was creamy rich and hot. Now, I love ricotta. I can eat it almost in any shape or form, but this fresh cheese just wouldn’t go down easily. It needed olive oil, pepper and salt. It was too fresh at 9 am. I don’t know why, but it was not easily digested. Maybe it was the vino rosso and olive and bread at 9 am served along side of it. Two bites and I was done. But I did enjoy the cheese also made on premises, a cross between fresh pecorino Romano and mozzarella. Again, just a taste, per favore. Too much food right after a large breakfast back at the hotel. And there was more of course, for lunch and dinner.
Next stop, an agricultural farm that produces herbs for medical and culinary purposes. Out in the fields of the most furtile soil I have ever stepped in, were artifacts from ancient ruins, turned up in the soil. Alfonso, our trusty driver for the week, was more interested in the soil and its contents since his wife is an archeologist, than he was in seeing what oregano is best for cooking and drying. When he did find a small treasure, he ran it over to me to put in my purse. He would even know the age by looking at the piece of pottery. I got some good samples. We toured the farm, smelled, tasted and were most impressed with the varieties of herbs grown in this area. Our guide, of course, a young, dark and handsome horticulturist, was so enthuthsed by his experimental concoctions. But it took the toll on one of our attendees who came down with a serious allergic reaction to something growing out there. Be forewarned. We had to stop in town at a Farmacia to get some allergy medication, but she was miserable for at least another day.
Lunch was at an Agritourismo, a farmhouse converted into a bed and breakfast, where most of the products served at meals are raised. A table, beautfully set for our group of aboug 16 (with driver, guides, etc.) and out came course after course of homemade dishes. Fried sage leaves, ricotta and wild asparagus frittata (in miniature pancake size), freshly grown spinach sauteed with garlic and cream, bread dough rolled with herbs, then cut and served in a spiral, fresh parsley bread slices and of course vino. That was our antipasto. Next course, two pastas. One with sausage and fennel fronds. Tossed gently with garlic and olive ol. Other was gnocchi with tomato sauce. Both homemade. Delizioso. Our secondi piatti was grilled pork tenderloins, marinated in herbs and garlic from the garden, lemons from the groves, and the pork from a neighbor’s farm. Yes, it was tender, pefectly cooked and served with the traditional oranges and fennel salad topped with borage flowers.
Dessert, a local favorite, was almond pudding. Almond milk, ground local almonds, gelatin, and a little sugar combined to form a pudding, almost like a panna cotta, of the most delectable texture and taste. Of course grappa, limoncello, and vino rosso or bianco were served post and with meal. It was a 2 hour food extravanza, sitting in the most charming setting of the dining room of the owners, who both cooked (the wife) and served us (Massimo the husband). By 3 pm we were ready for a nap, but it was not to be. Off to see a textile museuml, and then across the street, an architectural museum of local history and culture.
The ride in the van back to the hotel El Corte Del Sole, was quiet. An hour later we were all ready for naps and get ready for a dinner, whether in hotel or in Noto, our choice, or maybe just skip it all together. A wonderful day of Sicilian culture and foods. And it was just beginning.
The night concluded with the most impressive thunder and lightning storm that area has ever seen. Off in the distance, over the water, were flashes of light, tummy shaking claps of thunder and really, more rain that area is used to in one day. Mud. Lots of mud. But by morning it was gone out to sea.

Sicily Notes
As the days are drawing to a close here on the island of Sicily, I have so many mental notations that I was determined to document. The ways of the Sicilians in their daily life amuses, befuddles, and just down right confuses me.
Here are a just a few of those moments when you think - what were they thinking, those crazy Italians, and I can see so many traits from this homeland brought to America.
1. Children are nightowls here. Children don’t go to bed at 7 or 8 pm as they do in USA (I hope). Dinner here is usually after 8 pm, and in many restaurants, kids are coming in with parents at 8:30. 9 or even later, to eat dinner. Pizza, usually. Such a heavy meal to have so late at night. And why aren’t they in bed, getting ready for school the next day? Speaking of which, they attend school 6 days a week, Saturday all day, until 1:30. Well, school gets out every day here at 1:30 so they can go home and eat their pranzo (big lunch meal) with family. The school day is over at 1:30. And they have June, July, August, and 1/2 of September off due to the heat. Good hours.

Last Sunday night, way into the night, little ones, say 2 or 3 years old, were still full of energy and most loquacious at 11 pm, running wild in the courtyard after a First Communion dinner for 100 of their closest relatives, in the restaurant affiliated with the hotel at which I am staying. And parents allowed them to make a rucus even knowing they are disturbing sleeping guests. No sense of propriety or concern for others. Even my server at dinner in the hotel restaurant commented on how late a family just arrived (9:30) with two boys in tow, about 6 years old. The server is from Poland, where, she said, children don’t stay up this late and have a schedule. She too, is amazed at the lack of regular sleep hours in Italy.
2. Driving and road courtesy, or lack thereof. Oh my goodness. Don’t bother buying a new car here, or one that has automatic shift, or one that might be larger than say, a Toyota Yaris. You will never get a parking place, never be able to maneuver into traffic, and if you get a scratch or a ding, it won’t matter because then, it will look like every other vehicle on the road.
Pedestrians don’t have the right of way. It is everyman for him/herself. Cars will not stop for you as a pedestrian if you are in the middle of the street and they are turning left or right. You will have to wait for the car to pass, then make a run for it. And passing with double yellow lines on the road is just fine. It’s okay that there is a blind curve ahead. Or, passing on the right! Or, say passing at 25 miles per hour because the other cars are going 24 miles per hour. Nuts. I won’t drive here. EVER! And don’t get me started on the scooters that come out of nowhere to mow you down on the street while you are crossing at the corner, with the light (if there is one). I can see why, as I heard on the very reliable Aljeezera TV this week, there were over 1 million highway and road deaths in Europe. Many from scooter riders without helmets. And drunk drives. Big problem.
3. For the most part, people are very friendly here. Most want to assist you, if they see (or hear) you are American. For example, the lovely ladies at the Office of Public Relations who assisted in finding the birth home of my mother. They were most efficient and had it done within an hour. Or the woman, walking home with her market shopping, along a narrow road with me in front (no sidewalks here, just roads), and she told me to put my shoulder bag on the inside side of the street so that drivers of cars or scooters don’t try to grab it as they drive by. Huh? Okay. I did as she told me to do. In her toothless Italian (and she was young, maybe 40), and me in my fractured Sicilian, we got it done. Or my wondeful taxi driver, Francesco, who is most willing to pick me up anywhere, anytime. Oh, yeah, there is only ONE taxi driver in town, and that is Francesco Catania, and everyone knows him. Sometimes his wife, Pierra, drives, too. Or Massimo, another driver, but only one taxi, a Mercedes Benz van that seats 6. But more on that later.
Back to my story on friendliness. Beware of shopping in the markets. As I encountered yesterday at the Mercato de Mercoladi - Wednesday Market - which is huge, and I mean ginormous - 5 or 6 winding streets of market stalls that sell everything from bras to broccoli, from swordfish to artichokes to aprons, from grill pans to sardines. Crazy. Anyway, I was eyeing some aprons to purchase as gifts, cute fruit and vegetable designed lightweight gifts. Woman next to me asks how much two aprons were (NO VISIBLE SIGNAGE OF PRICES is not a good thing), and vendor said 6 Euros. Sei per due. SIX for two. Okay, she buys them. I ask how much one was, and he said, 5 Euros for one. Cinque Euros per une. What? I said in Italian, “How much?” And she said, “But you charged me 6 Euros for 2″, and he said, “One price for you, one price for this woman.” Stupido. You think I couldn’t understand? Ciao, arrivederci. Buyer beware of no signage when purchasing.
Also, the pushing and shoving at the market for a particular item on the junk table - and most of it was junk - would put Filene’s Bridal Basement Sale to shame. Little old ladies, who dress in May like it is December with heavy coats and sweaters, shove and push with the best of them. Speaking of junk, who buys shoes for 10 Euros? That’s about $14.20 today. And they were selling - everything from stilleto heels for walking on cobblestone streets - which they do at night for their nightly walk down the strada - to the glitzy, shiny, gold and silver sport shoes. They are really into their sparkly shoes here, even the older women. The latest trend, a gold or silver sport shoe with a slight wedge and velcro closures. Ah, not quite my style, but worn with jeans, slightly rolled up at the ankle, a short black jacket with more sequins and crazy sayings, and you are stylin’.
Also, speaking of shopping, bargaining is big here. At the market, at jewerly stores, anywhere one can be a negotiator. I witnessed this at the fish stall yesterday. Again, little old lady screaming at the poor fish monger that the price of 4 beautiful prime cuts of tuna fillets was too high. He had them weighed and showed her. No. She threatened to go to another pescheria (fish market) and he relented. He threw another slice in the pile just to shut her up. It was my grandmother, reincarnated. Holy Moly! The ultimate negotiator threatens to shop elsewhere.
4. Sayings in America work here too. Okay, back to Francesco, the very handsome but married to Pierra taxi driver. When we were driving somewhere, I can’t remember all the trips here in Alcamo for there is no public transportation and if you don’t have a car, you have Francesco - he was telling me, as we were passing a new housing development outside of town where at one time there were grape vineyards - that his first wife lives there with his two children. Oh, I said, “Pierra is wife number two?” Si, first wife ran off with his best friend, an architect. But he is madly in love with Pierra, so tutto bene. All is good. But wife number one got the apartment and is married to best friend. He visits his children there, and it makes him sad. Life is not any different for relationships in Italy.
Since Mr. Catania is the one and only taxi service in town, sometimes one has to share the ride with others. Two business people going into Alcamo from the hotel one morning. A good thing. A pick up at the hospital of a man with no legs, his wife and his caregiver another day. A sad sight. They got dropped off first, then me. But going down a very narrow street - some more narrow than others- and trying to get passed a car parked on the right, the van came very close to the wall of a house on my left, at most 1″ clearance. As I said, no sidewalks. Holy Shit! But instead I yelled, “Jesus, Maria e Giuseppe!” at which all 4 people in the van laughed. Yes, even in Italy, they say, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph”! Oh, and Francesco has a device to pull in the sideview mirrors when in such situations, hence they get lopped off by the walls and other vehicles. Love it! And Francesco has a monopoly on the car service. He can charge what he wants to whomever he wants. First day he really gouged me on ride from Alcamo to Castellammare del Golfo, and has tried to make up for it ever since. Sometimes its no charge, sometimes it’s just 4 Euros for a good 15 drive (he charged me 25 Euros the first day for ride into Castellmmare del Golfo, a 10 minute drive). He drops me off last and allows the others to pay most of my tab. It’s Italy! It’s how business is done. And if Pierra is driving me, its even cheaper! My drive into Palermo tomorrow morning was a point of contention since I asked Pierra how much it would cost and she quoted me less than what Francesco was going to charge, so a heated discussion on mobile phone ensued between husband and wife. I got the “cheeper fare.” Finito!
4. Friendliness Only Goes So Far. I have made my acquaintance with Claudio, the part-time desk clerk here at the hotel. He is the only one who speaks any semblance fof English, and sometimes my Italian gets lost in translation. As a linguistic student at University in Palermo, he is more than willing to learn English and our very odd idioms. Yesterday, after about 5 minutes of talking idioms and what they mean, the very stern, not very attractive, and downright dour manager came out of the back room and scolded Claudio for not working. What? It’s Customer Relations, sir. Oh well, poor Claudio, face red with embarrassment, shrugged, and I said, “Mr. Manager needs to take a chill pill”. No translation of that in Italian.
5. The Fascination with OBL on TV and its aftermath. I missed the coverage of the OBL raid and killing on American television, for it occurred day 3 of my visit here in Sicily. I heard about it from a fellow trip attendee at breakfast on Monday morning. He got it off his Blackberry. But needless to say, it has been topic UNE here in Europe. Not a moment goes by that some station - mostly BBC - doesn’t have yet one more angle to story. BBC is not our friend. They are biased and come up with the most incredulous b.s. It’s the FOX News of Europe. And their anchors are not attractive and have bad teeth. But enough about that.
I was in Caltigironi, a town known for its ceramics, last Tuesday. We were there as part of the tour to learn about ceramics and the history of this charming southern SIcilian town. Our local guide, Alfredo, was an engaging young man, studying English (they are all studying English here) who was anxious to talk about the Americans who killed OBL. I was afraid to get political. But he said he was happy and his heart was happy. Why? He has an uncle who is a tailor who lived in this tiny town, but known for his craft. He was hired by the Metropolitan Opera Company in NYC to sew their costumes. So he moved his family to Brooklyn. His daugher, her husband and two little granddaughters lived with him too, in Brooklyn. Life was good until September 11, 2001, when his 30 year old daughter went to work in NYC at the World Trade Center and was one of the victims of the attack. Killed. His uncle now takes care of the children along with the husband of his daughter. A little town in Sicily mourned the death of one of their own on our soil. Alfredo was grateful to America for finally finding and killing OBL and his cousin can now rest in peace, wherever she is. His words. My tears for his pain.
It is truly a small world. We all have the same emotional traumas - death, divorce and the need for comfort and talking about our personal stories so othes can relate. We do.