An Italian Seaside Dinner

I’ve been back in Italy for a few weeks now and, while I love being in Lucca, sometimes I long for open spaces and the sound of the sea. So, when friends recently suggested an evening trip to the coast for dinner I replied with an excited YES! I didn’t even ask where exactly we were going - sometimes it’s fun just to be surprised.

The evening delivered a host of very pleasant surprises. First, a pretty back roads drive to Viareggio, about 30 minutes from Lucca. Then, Viareggio itself. Well known for its raucous Carnevale celebrations, graceful Liberty-style buildings and grand hotels, Viareggio is also a beach town. It has a long promenade along the water lined with private beach clubs, shops, cafes and restaurants. It’s a fun seaside town and in early September it still has its summer vibe.

After a short walk along the promenade, we headed to restaurant La Pia, inside one of the private beach clubs. Another surprise - this is no casual beachside restaurant. La Pia is elegant with all white decor broken up only by some greenery, the colorful beach umbrellas in the distance, and the evolving magic of a tramonto al mare (sunset at the sea).

Sunset in Viareggio viewed from our table at La Pia

Considering its seaside location, it’s no surprise that La Pia has a menu full of wonderful seafood dishes. How to choose between the seafood pastas, the fresh grilled fish, the fritto misto (mix of fried seafood)? In the end we shared a light and crispy fritto misto as a starter. With such a hearty appetizer, we skipped a pasta course and each opted for the grilled branzino (sea bass) as a main dish. It was perfectly cooked and beautifully presented on a pool of pureed vegetables. Some grilled eggplant and zucchini made a perfect side dish. The fish paired nicely with a glass of Prosecco.

I was determined to skip desert, really I was. But my companions opted to indulge, one in an gelato covered chocolate truffle and the other in Crepes Suzette. Dessert came with a dose of drama as the copper brazier was wheeled table-side to flame the sauce for the crepes. Delicate, not too sweet, and topped with tiny shreds of orange and lemon peel and a little scoop of gelato it was a good ending to the meal (I admit, I did end up sharing the crepes, so much for good intentions).

The food was great and the company wonderful. The sound of the ocean was soothing. But the sunset - it was pure magic to watch the sky turn red and the sun slowly sink into the sea.

Under Italian Skies

Another week of August vacation, another photo post. This week, Italian skies.

It is hard to describe what is so special about the sky in Italy. There is just some combination of color, light, and connection to land, sea, or city that work in harmony. No matter the season or whether the skies are bright blue, filled with soft clouds, or dark and stormy, they are always beautiful. And the sky at sunset, that’s simply magic! I feel so fortunate to be living under Italian skies and I can hardly wait to return to Lucca in late August.

A storm brewing in Volterra

A clear summer day’s sky in Lerici

An early spring sky in Sant’Andrea di Compito

Wispy clouds in Bagnone

Dramatic skies over Pisa

The sky in Lucca makes the perfect back drop for sculpture.

This sky along the River Arno in Florence almost looks like a painting.

Sunset in the Val d’Orcia turns the sky a beautiful shade of pink.

Dusk along the wall in Lucca.

Laundry Day in Italy

When I am in the United States I rarely give much thought to laundry. From hamper to washing machine and on to dryer it’s an easy, uncomplicated task. Not so when I am in Italy. First, I need to be sure that no other appliance is in use when I run the washing machine. The electric circuits simply can’t handle the washing machine running at the same time as the oven, dishwasher, or hair dryer. I learned this the hard way when I once tried to blow dry my hair while doing a load of laundry. Picture me taking out the power in mine plus several adjoining apartments. Lesson learned!

Laundry or art ?

Next, drying times can be much longer in humid Italy (especially compared to my former home in the dry climate of New Mexico). In the winter, hanging things near (or over) the radiators speeds things up. But when the weather is warm and damp, and heat not in use, a pair of jeans can take a long time to dry. It helps to have access to “solar powered” drying (ie, sunshine on a terrace or a window line).

In a country with few clothes dryers, laundry hanging from a window line is a common sight. It always makes me smile.

Next, there are space concerns. My apartment in Lucca is small with no outdoor space. And being on the ground floor means that I don’t have a window high above the street with a clothes line. Setting up a drying rack inside takes up a lot of space and is only big enough for some clothes or towels, and not many at any one time. Hanging sheets to dry is nearly impossible. I now take my bed linens to the lavanderia where they wash, dry, press, and fold them. They return to me wrapped in paper and soft as can be. A touch extravagant but worth it!

Laundry day in the Cinque Terre.

Clothes and linen drying outside is a common sight in Italy (although some historic districts ban this practice). To me, there is something delightful about seeing colorful laundry hung up to dry on a line. It is quintessentially Italian. I often make up theories about the residents of a building based on their laundry - the orange worker’s pants, the individually hung socks, the unabashedly public hanging of “tighty whiteys”, the pretty dresses, the colorful linens, the baby clothes. They all say something about the lives if the people doing the wash. Over the past year I’ve even seen rows of blue surgical masks hung out to dry. Somehow all of these scenes seem like art, or prayer flags, to me.

I’m spending a couple of months visiting my family in the United States right now. I miss those neatly pressed and folded sheets from the lavanderia and the sight of laundry hanging from balconies. I wonder what my neighbors would think if I hung my laundry from my window here in Albuquerque? No doubt the HOA would not be amused.

Color coordinated laundry

COVID-19 in Italy : One Year Later

By mid-February 2020 Venice’s Carnevale celebration had been halted and the city emptied almost overnight.

It was during this week one year ago that the Italian Government announced a nation-wide quarantine in an effort to contain COVID-19 in Italy. The first known case had been identified at the end of January and by mid-February it was clear that the virus was spreading in northern Italy. There were hints that a lockdown was coming. In February, one of Italy’s biggest annual events, the Venetian Carnevale, was cancelled just after its opening weekend. That provoked a good deal of outrage as many people felt it was an over reaction to a limited problem (knowledge of COVID’s impact was not well understood at that point). Soon, local travel restrictions were imposed, though not always effectively implemented. People from the first affected communities fled and took the virus with them. For the rest of 2020 all major festivals, and most smaller community festivals, were cancelled as the need to limit large gatherings became much more clear.

In early March of 2020, bars, cafes, and restaurants began to distance tables. I remember well my “last coffee” before lockdown. I sat with two friends at a local bar. We spread out across two tables, empty seats and space between us, wondering what would come next. I remember someone saying that we should all make hair appointments soon in case the salons closed (they did, the very next day).

Hospitals soon began to fill with gravely ill patients. Shortages of personnel and equipment became critical issues. And people began to die, especially the elderly. Some people still did not take COVID seriously (both here in Italy and across the world) while other’s became paralyzed with fear. Most of us existed in a middle space - concerned, taking precautions, reordering priorities and routines, and slowly adjusting to what would become a long period of restrictions. We learned to carry paperwork with us when we left the house, to not go more than 200 meters from home without a valid reason, to wear masks, and to spend most of our time at home. We kept busy. Most importantly, we searched for new forms of connection - zoom and google chats, on-line apperitivos, daily “check-ins” to be sure friends were ok and coordinated “accidental” meetings while in line for groceries or at the trash bins. We kept in touch with our families and watched grandkids grow via FaceTime. I can not imagine what the last year would have been like without this ability to connect.

Andra` tutto bene - a sign of hope during the lockdown.

A great boost throughout the last year has been the Italian sense of hope and of community spirit - we would get through this together. Italians sang on balconies, displayed the national flag, and hung signs declaring all would be ok. They swept us up in their optimism. As hard as this has been, I will be forever thankful for the spirit of my Italian friends and neighbors and for those strangers across Italy making music on balconies.

I think perhaps it was a blessing to not have known then that one year later we would still be in such a struggle with this (damn) virus. Still, life is certainly much easier, less restricted than one year ago. Shops are open, Lucca’s famous wall is once again a place where we can walk, and we can go anywhere in our community without paperwork. The Italians have embraced (or at least adapted to) the concept of take out meals, and we all feel it is our civic duty to order meals to go often, a definite plus when we can’t dine out. A real bonus is that we can have people to our homes, though the rules say only 2 at a time. Just having a friend over for an occasional coffee or a meal becomes a highlight social occasion. Mask wearing has become automatic and not such a big deal for most of us (a bonus in cold winter weather, though not so great on these warm spring days). This is the new normal.

Thankfully it is once again possible to walk along Lucca’s walls. It’s a joy to be able to walk with a friend (though group gatherings and picnics are not yet permitted). Don’t forget your mask!

The latest color coded map showing Italy’s restrictions. Only one area, Sardegna, is white meaning that they have essentially no restrictions. Red zones are the most restricted. Tuscany remains in the Orange zone, though rumor has it we may change to red next week.

There have even been a few periods when restrictions have been lifted to allow the opening of restaurants and museums as well as travel outside of one’s home community (most recently in late October/November and again for 5 weeks in January/February). These periods of respite have provided glimpses of normalcy and have been the best therapy! However, the rules are ever changing based on the most current statistics related to COVID cases, variants, transmission, and hospitalizations so what is allowed one week can be forbidden the next. We are learning to take this week by week, some of us more gracefully than others. I must admit that I am among the group that finds the constant changes, and the weekly “statistic watch” more than a little anxiety provoking.

At the end of this year there is hope but there is also grief for what has been lost, both the big and the everyday small things. Mostly, I think people are tired. At the end of a year there are fewer flags flying, not so many optimistic banners on display, and it has been a long time since I’ve seen a video of balcony singing. Many festivals are cancelled for a second year. Museums are currently closed again in Tuscany. The economy here has been devastated and economic help has been slow to arrive. Families remain separated, lives disrupted. Some political discord was inevitable. In all of these ways, Italy is not so different than most other places in the world.

But vaccines are coming and with them the hope that things will improve, infection numbers fall, tourists return, and the economy begin to recover. In the meantime, spring is almost here. The skies are blue and the temperatures mild. Italy is as beautiful as ever, a walk across Lucca still takes my breath away. Music streams from the windows of the music school near my home. The magnolias are in bloom and the wisteria will soon follow. Before long the fields will be dotted with red poppies. The ancient walls still offer a giant hug, encircling this historic city and making me feel safer for being tucked within them. I hope that, wherever you are, you have comforts that make you feel safe and connected. And that you are still dreaming of the day when it is possible to return to Italy.

Magnolias in bloom along Corso Garibaldi, Lucca. March 2021.

The Many Meanings of "Orange" in Italy

It’s funny how the meaning of a word can change depending on language and context.

In English, the word orange can mean either the color or the fruit. In Italian it is a little more complicated. The fruit is arancia, the orange tree is arancio, and the color is arancione.

Winter is the season for arance (oranges, plural) in this part of northern Italy. They grow bright and juicy on big trees or on smaller trees in large terra-cotta pots.. There is even one growing in a small piazza in Lucca, appropriately named the Piazza dell’Arancio (top photo).

This large orange tree grows a few steps from my house. In the background is the Torre Guinigi (Guinigi Tower).

More interesting, and with deeper meaning, is what the word arancione has come to mean in terms of risk throughout Italy. Again, it has more than one meaning, both of which carry a warning.

Stormy weather ahead !

An “allerta meteo codice arancione” (code orange weather alert) is used when storms threaten with dangerous conditions (heavy rain, wind, hail, thunderstorms, floods, etc). We’ve seen a lot of that this winter. The area where I live has a system that automatically sends a text warning when orange weather conditions are predicted. There are also a less severe yellow (giallo) warnings and more severe red (rosso) alerts for weather. It definitely gets my attention when my phone beeps with one of these messages.

The newest meaning of arancione, and the one that gets the most reaction from me, relates to COVID restrictions.

The colors are the same as for weather - giallo (yellow, least restrictive), arancione (more restrictive including no indoor seating in bars and restaurants, closure of museums, and no travel outside of one’s home city), and rosso (red, most restrictive, stay home except for essential activities).

After about 5 weeks in the yellow zone, Tuscany was placed back into the orange zone on February 14th. The change was due to an increase in COVID cases and the threat associated with several COVID variants which have now arrived in Tuscany. The word arancione is definitely a trigger for me in this context, a less than happy color. But still preferable to the color red!

On a much happier orange note, I was delighted to receive a gift of some preserved orange slices just after the holidays. They went a long way towards restoring my appreciation for the word orange.

Dried oranges make a beautiful display at Gino Bistro in Lucca

In a clear gift bag, tied with a ribbon, were glistening rounds of blood oranges, glazed with sugar and slightly dried. Beautiful to look at, but I had no idea how to use them. The friend who gave them to me suggested they would be wonderful in a cup of tea. She was right and that has become a cold weather evening ritual for me. She also suggested using them in a hot toddy. A hot toddy! What a perfect way to warm up on a stormy winter evening. It is said that hot toddies might even have medicinal properties - perhaps one will scare away any lingering viral particles.

The search was on for a recipe and there were endless varieties. A true toddy starts with alcohol - bourbon, Irish whisky, rum or brandy. The common theme seems to be a dark colored liquor as opposed to clear ones like vodka or gin. Next comes a sweetener. Most often that is honey but some recipes use white or brown sugar, simple syrup, or (my personal favorite) maple syrup. Lemon is the next typical ingredient but here is where I substituted those beautiful rounds of preserved orange. I’ve tried it both ways and found that I like the orange slices even better than a fresh lemon slice. To my mind, using Italian preserved blood orange slices makes this it an Italian hot toddy, even if I could not find a translation for the word toddy in any of my Italian dictionaries.

To the above ingredients some boiling water or black tea is added - that’s what puts the hot in hot toddy. Those are the essential ingredients but there are many extra “add-ins” - cinnamon sticks, cloves, star anise, ginger, even chile. The variations are endless.

I was happy with the following very easy recipe: In a small mug (a 6 ounce coffee mug works perfectly) combine: 2 tablespoons of dark rum and 1 tablespoon of maple syrup. Add 1 slice of dried, sugar glazed orange and muddle it a bit to release the flavor. Next, fill the mug with boiling water or hot black tea and add 1 cinnamon stick. Using water makes the rum flavor more prominent, using tea mellows the taste of the rum. I like it both ways. Simple, tasty, and guaranteed to warm you up on a cold evening, especially if you are in the orange COVID zone with an orange alert storm howling outside.

Orange spiced hot toddy - che buono !