inserire titolo qui.

Yup, that's Italian for "insert title here," 'cause I just can't come up with anything. Boo, hiss. Some clever blogger I am.

It's happening again, kids, where I have to rapid-fire write blog posts in order to even remotely keep up with the adventures we're having. I know, I know, I can hardly wrap my brain around how lucky you are in getting to read such quality work again so quickly, either, but obviously, it's all for you people. So selfless.*

Ahem. Anyway. I know you're just dying to get to the Italy part, but I do have another thing or two about which to write: first, Knabenschiessen, or the festival known as "Little Boys Shooting Day" around our house. Ostensibly, it's a target-shooting contest for teenagers, but it is accompanied by a ginormous carnival, and it takes place roughly 5 minutes from our apartment...the latter two elements of which are obviously the draw for us. Mike and a few friends actually rode some of the gargantuan rides this year--honestly, I've never seen rides that huge at any carnival in the US--and we managed to stuff ourselves with some tasty garlic bread (still good against vampires and small hunger!), some hand-cut veggie chips (yum), a half of a roasted chicken, and some langos (the Hungarian word for what I know as Navajo fried bread) to munch on. And we saw these, too...

The booth for recycleart.ch, which had some pretty impressive metal sculptures on display. This dragon was amazing and taller than me. Look at his wings!

They also had a life-sized Predator out front, which was very obviously Mike's favorite.

Another delight experienced at a carnival of any kind: top-quality people watching. I loved this cranky-looking old guy with his bikini drink. Heh.

And then sharp-shooters Mike and Steve combined their talents to win a huge tiger for me. It was quite an impressive display, to be honest, but I genuinely have no idea what to do with this thing. It's ridiculously large.

I think we all know that I despise being in front of the camera. Look at the tiger, though! Massive!

Skipping forward in time a bit (mainly 'cause I want to end on Italy, obvs), Mike and I also attended this nifty little pop-up dinner put on by a group called Wood Food. As you might imagine, there was some smoking of things involved...yum.

It took place in this neat warehouse-y space which, apparently, is going to be torn down soon. Which is really, really too bad: it was an interesting space with a great atmosphere and lots of potential. Although the temporary nature of the building lends itself to this type of event, apparently, which only ran for four days a week during the month of September, and--it was intimated to us by someone working there, who, as it turns out, Mike knew--may or may not have been of questionable legality. (We genuinely don't know.) 

When we arrived, this guy was sitting in the corner playing the heck out of this squeezebox. Surreally enough, as the staff began circulating with little trays of bite-sized hors d'oeuvres, he launched into a length rendition of The Turtles' 'Happy Together.' It was strange, but he was good.

On the menu at Wood Food: 

• hors d'oeuvres consisting of wee cups of celery cream soup, a bite of toast with fresh cheese (frischkäse, one of my favorite German words and concepts) topped with a roasted hazelnut, and tiny bites of smoked, black-peppery boar
• wood oven-baked sourdough brown bread, butter with active coal (okaaaaay...), and sea salt on the tables
• smoked trout with yellow peppers in gelatin (our first aspic, maybe...? not terribly sure)
• sliced smoked cold duck
• charred sweet potato cream served with salt potatoes
• smoked pike with bee wax and lime (wow, ridiculously delicious!)
• green beans with parmesan, pine nuts, and pomegranate seeds
• an exceptional "Swiss pine" (Arvenholz) wurst served on top of green lentils with oregano
• lamb heart (yep, we ate heart) with an artichoke and bergamot sauce
• mushrooms with blueberries, red currants, and black truffles
• guinea fowl with fennel
• eggplant with sumac and Greek yogurt
• a wee plate of Alp cheese, goat cheese, and fruit bread (which normally I avoid, but is so good with the strong Swiss cheeses!)
• dessert of blackberry puree with chocolate mousse and hazelnuts

It sounds like a lot, but much of it was served on the same plate, and the portions were somewhat small. What was fun, though, is that it was served family-style per each set of six people, so we actually had to interact with all of the Swiss people around us. Interesting and fun, and sheesh, what good and fascinating food. (Definitely never eaten pike or heart before...!)

And finally, northern Italy, once again. With Jen and Dave along for the road trip, we did retread a bit of familiar territory, but we made a few discoveries of some really nice new places, and, as one does in the Piedmont, had some lovely food. I may have also seriously, seriously (as in, SERIOUSLY seriously) contemplated bringing home a little doggie that was running around our Piemonte B&B, but Mike (and apartment living, and--oh yeah--my darling cats) convinced me that it wasn't really the best idea. Anyway, that's another story for another time. To the Piedmont!

We rolled into town late on a Wednesday afternoon, without much time to do anything other than check into our B&B before dinner. Which was, of course, at Osteria di Gemma, because one simply cannot be in Piemonte and not eat there. It is Piedmont home cookin', and there's no menu--you just walk in and they serve you the set menu for the night. I've talked about her food at length before, but this time we had a few things that were new to us. For one, the second pasta dish (after the tajarin with bolognese sauce) was wee raviolis filled with cheese and herbs, instead of the usual meat filling (so! good!); and the second meat, along with the rabbit (yum), was brasato, which is basically a veal roast cooked in red wine until it falls off the bone and turns into the pot roast of your dreams. I love brasato so very, very much, and this time it even came with a side of delicious cooked carrots. Quantity-wise, I know exactly what I'm getting myself into every time we eat at Gemma's, and I can never avoid overeating...it's that good.

BAM! Day 2: after 8 years of visiting these hills, I finally got to see one of the castles up close. This is Grinzane Cavour, and the oldest part of this castle was built in the year 1000, or so they claim. (The rest is from the 14th through 16 centuries, they think.) Wish'd gotten a person in here for scale, because this thing is huge.

View from Grinzane to yet another castle (or two), with some grape vines thrown in for good measure.

Our lunchtime view in Alba at Al Dente, a lovely little homey place with great pasta. (I had really some fantastic orecchiette with plenty of broccoli, and Mike had a "cone of seafood"--fresh and delicious--and a bowl of tiny raviolis. Good.)

Then, back to the hills for our second castle of the trip! It was almost too much.** This one is Serralunga, also 14th century.

The view from Serralunga's walls, inside of which there is a lovely, tiny village.

And then, to wine tasting! Just FYI, people, it's basically necessary to make appointments in the Piemonte if you're going to go wine tasting. It's not Napa at all. However, we've lucked out a time or two, and this time, entirely on a whim, we stopped by Paolo Manzone, which turned out to be absolutely divine. For example: they gave us local cheese with our tasting. Friends for life.

I don't even know how many wines we sampled...Signore Manzone is quite animated and knowledgeable and passionate and entertaining and he just kept pouring. 

A quick tour of their cellars. These are some big barrels, kids.

The view from Manzone. The vines immediately below are theirs.

Dinner on day two was at Da Cesare, a quirky little place I'd read about a couple of years ago. The chef himself is also an artist, and so the hand-written menu was painted by him. (His studio is attached to the side of the restaurant, and the entire interior is decorated with his paintings.) The standouts of the meal: a salad of duck with fruit garnish; basically an entire plate of melted castelmagno cheese (ok, it had a few veggies in it), the better in which to dip our homemade bread; and a lovely local risotto. My very rudimentary Italian seized up on me when Cesare himself came out to talk to us several times, and I felt terrible about it...he was so nice, and wanted so badly to converse with us! At least we got to meet his crazy-enthusiastic truffle dog, who snuffled our hands and immediately bolted out the front door. And then ran under the tablecloths six or eight times. Delightful.

On day three, we headed towards Torino. Naturally, no trip to Torino would be complete without lunch at Eataly, so there we went. (Here, a giant room of cheeses we'd never seen before. There was a meat room, too.) Don't kid yourselves, people: it's a grocery store, but also a stunningly great place to dine.

I mini panini! Most gorgeous tiny artisanal sandwiches ever. Want to collect them all.

Once we'd had our fill at Eataly, we headed into Torino proper, where we found that this was the view from our little rented apartment. (This is Piazza Castello, the main square in the city.)

I think maybe my favorite building in the city: Palazzo Carignano, a 17th-century brick palace that now houses a museum dedicated to the unification of Italy (Risorgimento). It also has this cool courtyard in the middle that's decorated all sorts with white brick stars, and the other facade of this thing is this big, white, Baroque confection. It's so neat.

Piazza San Carlo, one of the most elegant squares maybe anywhere. I love the pale blue on those shutters.

Dinner on the evening of Day 3 was at La Badessa, the first restaurant we tried--ever--in Torino. I think their quality has gone down just a wee bit since those earlier days, but it's still really solidly good food. (I ordered the fassone for an appetizer, then went for the vegetarian entree, however that works. I know, I'm a nutter. But the puff pastry stuffed with seasonal veggies, caramelized-onion omelet, and stuffed cabbage was excellent.)

Day 4 began with a quick run-through of Europe's largest outdoor market (overwhelmingly large, really, but so fun just to walk through and listen to all the fruit and veggie vendors yell), and then everyone else went to check out the exhibit on the Shroud of Turin at the duomo, while I stayed outside (wore a tank top and forgot to bring a scarf, duhhh) and examined the details on the cathedral. They're exquisite.

Just look at the detail on this one angel, which is one small panel in the carved trim around one of three doors in the facade. I couldn't find any patterns or carvings anywhere that repeated themselves. Unbelievable.

Next up, we checked out the Palazzo Reale, mainly so we could see the armory, which is pretty special. Imagine, if you will, a long hall with frescoed ceiling, marble carvings coming out of the walls, and antique suits of armor everywhere. It might look something like this:

We think those are real taxidermied horses. The glass vitrines all the way down each side of the room are full of swords and shields and all sorts of weaponry, and there are two to three full suits of armor on and around each horse.

Gotta say, though, if this guy was coming at me in battle, I don't know how intimidating I'd find his face. (Sword, sure. Mace, ok. Helmet, no.)

This one, also not intimidating. And who even knows what's going with that weird little bear face, plus those bizarre fan-like appendages on the sides? I feel somehow like this is the Junior Birdman of the helmet world. More goofy than scary, certainly, but hey, points for creativity.

Lunch was pasta at Pastificio Defilippis, where they've been in the pasta-making business since 1872. Um, it definitely shows, 'cause the lunchtime menu there is superb. (Even their salad, for which my stomach demanded I skip the pasta--'cause man, sometimes you just need some veggies--was really nice.) They even let you pick a fresh pasta out of their display case, if you so desire, and they'll prepare it for you right then and there. My kinda place.

Next we headed out to the automobile museum of Torino, which was new to all of us. I know next to nothing about cars of any age, but I seem to be really drawn to the old ones. I think it's because they had so much more style than nowadays, just in general.

Look how giant and cushy those seats are, and note the tremendous amounts of leg room! Be still my heart. (1902 Fiat.)

Old-school squeeze-bulb horn!

Loooove this 1937 Packard. Look at that styling and that insane grille.

The Packard's hood ornament. I am utterly infatuated with these things.

See?

LOOK AT THOSE FINS. Hello, Caddy. (1958 Sixty Special.)

Ohhhhhh, Jag E-type. You are the most beautiful car ever. (This is one I actually could pick out of a line-up. 1969.)

This museum had quite a few microcars, which are hilarious. This teeny little guy is from 1959.

I liked the face on this one. (1936 Fiat 500A, converted for racing.)

Back in the city, we stumbled across this gorgeous little passaggio containing the most beautiful--and dangerous--Art Nouveau antique store I've ever seen. I have declared it off-limits to myself, as I reallyreallyreallyreally want quite literally EVERYTHING in there. (And the proprietor is super nice, so it would be terrible to have to rob him, as I certainly can't afford everything in there...)

Dinner on Day 4 was at Con Calma, a restaurant outside the center of Torino that is always worth the taxi ride to get there. More Piemonte home cooking, but they actually have a menu, and thus far, every single thing we've eaten there has been outstanding. (I absolutely and unreservedly recommend both the cheese and meat samplers. To die for.)

Day five began with breakfast at Perino Vesco--they have stunning pastries and focaccia, but also just fantastic sandwiches (my new Italian food obsession--these people do not mess around!!) and really good espresso. And then we tried taking a new way home: up the Great St. Bernard Pass, which is an actual place. It genuinely was great, as we got to miss the stupid traffic at the Gotthard Tunnel; we drove through what I'm renaming the Valley of the Frickin' Castles Everywhere; and the view at the top was pretty spectacular.

This pass is also where they bred and raised the St. Bernards that were used as rescue dogs in the area for centuries. Now, the dogs just kinda chill in their kennels, and go for walks in the pass. (Don't get me wrong, though: these are healthy dogs. None of them were overweight or underfed, and they have several kennel areas accessible both indoors and out.) Sadly, you can't just trot up and pet them, but one did come up to the fence for some scratchings.

Old-style rescue dog accoutrement. Mike loves Saint Bernards because he thinks they just come with those little casks around their necks. (Second item from the left: doggie goggles. Yes.)

What I'm watching: finally got my act in gear and went to see a couple of flicks at the Zürich Film Festival, which is quite a big deal around these parts. We even have a handful of major stars and directors stop through to promote their films, although obviously, I've never been motivated enough to search any of that out. At any rate, I went to check out the latest Bill Murray movie--St. Vincent--the other night, and while it was a bit formulaic, it was still pretty good, and he's fantastic in it. This afternoon, I went to see Gulabi Gang, a documentary about a feminist leader in India, and holy smokes. What a personality, what a strong sense of justice, what a drive to create change. What was really neat, though, was that the director stopped by unexpectedly for a Q&A session at the end. It was pretty great, and I can see why this film festival thing is so popular. There were certainly other movies I would have liked to check out, but I just couldn't make it all work out. Next year, though, I'm on it.

Next up: hey, now I'm only one adventure behind! No surprise here, though...it's more Italy. Rome, to be specific. That is some seriously monumental grandeur, people. I hope you're ready for it.





*No...we all know that's blatantly untrue. This is a great record of all of our travels for me, and plus, what else am I going to do with all of the photos I take, but make you all look at them??

**Nope, impossible. I'll never, ever get tired of medieval castles. Come on.

bubble and squeak.

That's British for "fried leftovers," people, and that's what we're starting with this time around. By way of mediocre explanation, the video files produced by our camera are these stupid little proprietary-format things which I can't download for myself, and must rely on my technologically advanced husband to fetch for me...and so, usually, I forget about them until long, long after the fact. Which brings us to today's videos: a selection from the Chienbäse parade in Liestal, back in March. We'll then proceed to a brief account of our April trips to London and Rapperswil with Mike's mom, and I'll try to keep it relatively short and readable. Surprise!! (But don't get used to that. It takes too much effort.)

But first, the videos. (Turn your sound down, kids. It's always weirdly loud.)

Ooh, this must be a new Blogger feature: in my browser it's sorta already playing this without sound. Go figure. Anyway, this is just a brief glimpse of my favorite (and by far the scariest) fire wagon of the parade: the one where they stacked the wood so that the fire was shooting out the sides. At the very end, you can see all of the people huddled behind the cart, trying to survive the heat from this thing. This would never fly in the US, and I love it so much. Yay for lax safety regulations! Thanks, Europe!

Post-parade, one of the bands continuing to march around the city. For some reason, these guys made me think instantly of Devo. Just with fifes and drums.

Ohhh, so much going on here. Please note that 1) the guy in the middle leading the band (whom you can just barely see) was wearing a giant skull head while they were marching, then removed it when the band stopped to reveal skull makeup underneath; 2) there are blue lights inside both the bass drums (center) and the Sousaphones (left); and 3) how many freaking people are still here, post-parade, at something like 10:00 at night. How very un-Swiss (and, frankly, delightful) of them. I really dig these weird little festivals...it's so fun to see everyone deviate from the traditional early-to-bed, nothing-open-past-6:00 lifestyle! And anything involving Gugge music is all right with me. (Plus...festival food. Yummmmmm.)

Next up was one of our favorite biannual events: the chili degustation at Heuberger. Man, is that always a good afternoon. Our tendency is to buy a bottle of white wine and sample all of the hot sauces. (Who needs the mild ones??) We seem to spend a little more money there each time we go, but it's entirely worth it all.

Mmmmm, so many spicy things... (Although the best sauces there are by far Herr Heuberger's own in-house blends. Sooooo tasty.)

Heh.

Right, then, on to Rapperswil! Which is less than an hour down the lake from us by train, but where we'd never really spent any time. And, to be fair, we really only spent a couple of hours there this time, but sheesh...what a gorgeous and fantastic little town. Mike's mother Ruth came to visit back in April, and after we'd gone to church on Easter Sunday, the three of us hopped on a ferry and headed south down the lake (...yet another thing we'd never done: take the fancy ferry anywhere). For a Sunday, Rapperswil was hopping.

Our ferry for the afternoon. We ate lunch on board and had a tremendously nice waiter (as well as a bottle of Zürich rosé that was surprisingly good).

One of the many lovely views from the ferry. Soooo clear that day!

Did I mention that Rapperswil has its own castle?

Not to mention some fantastic medieval-ish buildings and a lovely waterfront square lined with cafes.

The castle itself, which, oddly enough, houses the Polish National Museum (which has a history almost as tumultuous as Poland itself; you should read about it). It's a lovely museum, albeit quite small, since 95% of the collections were lost during WWII, as they'd been transferred back to Poland.

View from the tower of the castle, which hosts art exhibits.

After we'd shown Ruth around a bit in Zürich, after her successful solo pilgrimage south into the mountains, and after a tremendous dinner at Chäsalp (in which we ate no fewer than three pots of fondue--one traditional, one with mustard and green peppercorns, and one with chili), we all packed up and headed to London for a long weekend. Whereupon I discovered that I'd forgotten to bring the real camera, so apologies. Yet more phone photos approaching.

Mike found us a cozy little flat near Waterloo Station, and as we were making our way into the center, we happened past the Borough Market, which is gorgeous and colorful and bustling and full of food stalls and right next to Southwark Cathedral. So. Very. Jealous.

The view from behind the market.

Next, off to the Tower of London! Which I don't think I've seen since 2000. Here, the White Tower  (originally built by William the Conqueror in the early 11th century [!!], and somewhat modified over ensuing centuries, but only a little) on the left; and the 19th-century Waterloo Barracks, which hold the Crown Jewels (which, of course, one cannot photograph) on the right.

Tower Bridge from inside the Tower of London. It's almost too much.

The Queen's House, built sometime around 1530-1540, and one of the very few half-timbered structures remaining after the Great Fire. (Complete with genuine fuzzy-hatted guard. He looked completely fake until he marched around a bit.)

The most interesting place at the Tower, in my opinion: the 13th-century Beauchamp Tower, which was used as a prison for important persons...several of whom, during the 16th and 17th centuries, spent enough time there to carve some seriously elaborate graffiti into the walls. This one's from John Dudley, 1553-1554.

Thomas Peverel, 1570.

After visiting the Tower, we had a tremendous dinner at The Laughing Gravy, which was a darling (and surprisingly affordable, although that may be the Zürich in me talking) little place near our apartment, and whose menu I genuinely wanted to eat in its entirety. We started with a Scotch egg with pork belly; then Mike had venison Wellington, Ruth had guinea fowl, and I had mac-and-cheese with spring veggies; and we finished by splitting the blueberry cheesecake (which came with tiny lime-infused donuts, holy smokes) and a chocolate-cashew-peanut-salted caramel delight (their menu calls it "salted caramel fudge and shortbread filled chocolate cylinder with a cashew nut cluster and peanut emulsion"). People, if you're in the neighborhood, eat there. 

Day two started with a visit to the Globe Theater, wherein we weren't allowed to take photos, and so naturally, I forgot to take them outside as well. (Blast.) We did get to sit inside for about 20 minutes, though, to watch a rehearsal of Hamlet being performed by a traveling theater company that's aiming to visit every country in the world over two years. It was only a technical rehearsal for staging and such, but the whole setting was absolutely captivating, and I could have watched them all day. Really incredible.

After the Globe, we headed around the corner to see what the Rose Theater had to offer, and it turned out to be an archaeological ruin that isn't even visible; in fact, it's currently more-or-less located in the basement of a modern building. The Rose's foundations and footprint have been preserved under concrete since their modern rediscovery in 1989, and while there exist grand plans to excavate and build a glass floor over the area where the original stage was (so as to allow for modern performances over the original footprint), currently, the Rose's outline is only visible as a red string of rope lighting. However. When we arrived, we discovered a truly passionate community of actors and volunteers raising money for the theater, performing on a tiny wooden stage next to the (invisible) ruins, and generally being very nice, welcoming, interesting people. My mother-in-law, who has a degree in theater, got to get on stage with one of the performers and do a little Shakespeare at the Rose. We were quite proud of her. 

As it was a bit dim in there, and this was from Mike's phone, the photo is quite terrible, but that's Ruth on the left, and you can see the red rope lights in the background. 

After the theater was afternoon tea at Fortnum & Mason's Diamond Jubilee Tea Salon. Ridiculously exquisite little pastries and finger sandwiches and cakes and scones abound. Expensive, but lovely and fun. (And you won't need to have dinner, if you go in the late afternoon, 'cause they keep bringing stuff until you tell them to stop. Holy smokes, was that a lot of tiny foods.)

Saw this on the way to tea. Someone, somewhere, had a sense of humor about this construction zone.

Took a quick spin past Big Ben...I'd forgotten how ginormous that thing is!

Over to Trafalgar Square which really is quite grand...

...and, for some reason, had a giant purple rooster in it. Fantastic.

The view from Waterloo Bridge on our walk home. Love this city.

Day three was supposed to begin with breakfast at The Wolseley, but they had some sort of giant malfunction in which they lost both electricity and water (hooray for underground construction work!), and so we ended up eating just down the street at Richoux, which was also lovely and tasty. And then headed to the Museum of London for the Cheapside Hoard exhibit, which was phenomenal, and also un-photographable. Thankfully, the rest of their collections were pretty great as well.* 

Among many, many other things, they had this delightful (most likely replica, 'cause it wasn't labeled) penny-farthing bicycle in their Victorian Walk exhibit.

Also the Lord Mayor's Coach, from 1757, still used in the annual Lord Mayor's Show. (Sheesh. Talk about quality construction.)

And with that, we had just enough time to collect our things and head to the airport for the flight back. It was a bit of a whirlwind, but every visit to London is well, well worth it.

What I'm reading: it's been so very long since last I checked in that I'll just skip ahead to what I'm reading right now. I've only recently discovered Sloane Crosley, an essayist whose writing is mostly hilarious/uncomfortable, and sometimes poignant. She's delightful. I tore through I Was Told There'd Be Cake, and am now most of the way through How Did You Get This Number. Only wish there were more.

What we're watching: caught the second Thor movie a night or two ago, and it was relatively meh. Actually better than I was expecting, given the reviews, but still. Does it really justify a third...? Also recently finished watching True Detective, which started out really strongly as a somewhat existential (but still super entertaining) slow-boiler, but kept gaining momentum and ended up being one of the creepiest things I've ever seen. As in, if you are easily creeped out, averse to violence, and/or have an overactive imagination, as I am and am and have, don't do it. I had trouble sleeping for at least 3 nights. And the ending was pretty brutal. Speaking of which...we continue to follow Game of Thrones because it's terribly addictive, although I hate how there's never really any hope in sight there, unless you're hoping they kill off all of the good characters to whom you've become attached. Ugh. 

What we're cooking: not much, lately, as it's finally barbecue weather and we have generous friends. I did manage to whip up some chicken fajitas this week, based on this recipe...although, of course, I had to add Tapatio to the marinade. MORE HEAT, PEOPLE. Get with the program.

Ohhhh, so very much more to tell you about, but I am going to start making an effort to keep these posts to reasonable lengths. Which might mean--emphasis might--that they'll come a little more frequently, although I doubt it. The laziness really is overwhelming.

Next up: more food talk and Mike's surprise birthday trip. 

*On a side note, when I spent a semester studying in London towards the end of college, I had an internship at the Museum of London. I spent actual weeks scanning and cataloging Victorian valentine cards from the Jonathan King collection, which you can find on the museum's website by searching for "valentine" or "Jonathan King." That type of museum work turned out not to be for me, but the museum itself will always provoke a sort of sentimental sigh-reaction in me. (Plus, they really do have amazing collections [here's a wee sample...], and even a portion of the original Londinium Roman wall. Yeah.)