Why am I so tired? Getting old? Walking up into the hills to our home? Jet lag? All three? Perhaps. Whatever the cause, the solution is easy to come by with the cool summer breezes blowing through the shuttered floor to ceiling windows of our bedroom. Sleep. Lots of lazy sleep.
Yesterday we made what is sure to be the first of many trips into Terni to pick up groceries at Coop. The #7 bus departs the piazza of Torre Orsina at 10 minutes to the hour and deposits us a block from the store in 28 minutes after making several stops along the way. The bus winds its way through the small town of Papigno before arriving in Terni. The narrow roads and tight turns has cars pulling over as our bus slips by with inches between cars and ancient stone walls.
After remembering to insert a €1 coin to release our shopping cart, we make our way up and down the aisles of Coop. Coop is large. It has a huge grocery section, plus a section for house wares, back to school supplies, and an array of other items. You are immediately assaulted by the amazing variety and quality of each department. Want wine? There are several aisles. Want pasta? They carry dozens of brands in a multitude of shapes and sizes. The fruits and vegetables are piled high and all picked at their peak. We load up on peaches, giants green grapes, Roma tomatoes, garlic, and their huge red and yellows bell peppers. Using the plastic gloves provided, we bag our selections then go to the weigh station where we use the display screen to locate our items and have the price label printed out.
Next, there are counters for meat, deli, prepared foods, bread, and seafood. At a central ticket kiosk you select the department you want and your ticket is printed. The wait is never long and the employees manning each counter are always smiling and ready to help. At the meat department I grab some pork pieces for making sauce along with some fresh Italian sausage (pork, salt, pepper, and oil as its only ingredients). From the deli, my favorite department, I select a prosciutto knowing that I will never be asked “how thin?” because there’s only one correct thickness and that’s what you’ll get. Though at Coop I was a bit thrown off guard when she asked “a mano o in macchina?”. I glanced over and saw that there were a couple prosciutto vices where I could have it cut by hand. I declined and went with the machine. Each slice was cut paper thin, but not too thin that it tears, and layered neatly in their ingenious wrapping. Three etti later I select a lovely copicola and she slices two etti. Almost done, but there are three delicious looking wrinkled dried sausages in the case that I have her add to my order. We pick up some artichokes, along with some truffle sauce, from the prepared foods counter and continue our way up and down the aisles adding pasta, mozzarella di bufala, cantucci, and other staples to our cart. The cheese section is also immense. Cinzia points to a sign that says “pecorino” and notes that where in America would there be an entire section of sheep’s milk cheeses to choose from. You are also given a choice when buying your Parmigiano Reggiano. How many months of aging would you like? We went with the 24 month variety.
With our cart filled with what I hope can handily be carried in two reusable bags, we complete our check-out and head to the bus stop where the #7 returns at 11 minutes past the hour. Bad luck – we missed it by 10 minutes and have to wait. We find a shady spot and I walk to the bar to pick up a couple drinks while we wait. Soon we find ourselves back in the piazza of Torre Orsina, cursing Enrica as we must now haul these heavy bags up into il colle to our home. Now dripping with sweat, we put away our groceries, take a cool shower, make some sandwiches of prosciutto, tomatoes, and mozzarella, and then lay down for a nap. So very lazy and wonderful.
Still too full from our late lunch, we leave the house just after 8pm to go to the bar. The new couple that runs the bar isn’t well liked, and few people are about (though it is only 4 August). After a drink and engaging in some small talk with the locals, we decide to pop in on Elda. She is just wrapping up dinner. Her son, Damiano is there with his wife Valeria and their two children, Giulia and Paolo; her daughter Daniela and her girlfriend, Roberta; her cousin Antonella and her husband Cesare and daughter Ginevra. We’re offered a piece of cheesecake that Valeria made – sweet mascarpone with candied pignoli on top. We talk long into the evening, eventually joined by Maria Giulia. Cinzia’s Italian has vastly improved, and I’m impressed by how much she understands and speaks. Brava Cinzia! The dinner finally breaks up at midnight as everyone says their goodbyes and makes their way home. A very exhausting Saturday.
On Sunday, I sleep until 8:30am, tinker around on the computer a bit until Cinzia joins me. I have a cornetto albicocca, a piece of fruit (looks to be the size of a peach, but the color and taste of an apricot, and perfectly ripe and juicy), and some Coke. Now, I’m ready for a nap, so I leave Cinzia sitting at the table to enjoy the view out the window, RTL 102.5 music TV, and her newly acquired adult coloring book. I linger as long as I can until getting up at 1:30pm feeling a bit hungry, so I prepare a board with some of the meats, cheeses, and fruit from Saturday’s haul. It almost looks too good to eat…almost.
After remembering to insert a €1 coin to release our shopping cart, we make our way up and down the aisles of Coop. Coop is large. It has a huge grocery section, plus a section for house wares, back to school supplies, and an array of other items. You are immediately assaulted by the amazing variety and quality of each department. Want wine? There are several aisles. Want pasta? They carry dozens of brands in a multitude of shapes and sizes. The fruits and vegetables are piled high and all picked at their peak. We load up on peaches, giants green grapes, Roma tomatoes, garlic, and their huge red and yellows bell peppers. Using the plastic gloves provided, we bag our selections then go to the weigh station where we use the display screen to locate our items and have the price label printed out.
Next, there are counters for meat, deli, prepared foods, bread, and seafood. At a central ticket kiosk you select the department you want and your ticket is printed. The wait is never long and the employees manning each counter are always smiling and ready to help. At the meat department I grab some pork pieces for making sauce along with some fresh Italian sausage (pork, salt, pepper, and oil as its only ingredients). From the deli, my favorite department, I select a prosciutto knowing that I will never be asked “how thin?” because there’s only one correct thickness and that’s what you’ll get. Though at Coop I was a bit thrown off guard when she asked “a mano o in macchina?”. I glanced over and saw that there were a couple prosciutto vices where I could have it cut by hand. I declined and went with the machine. Each slice was cut paper thin, but not too thin that it tears, and layered neatly in their ingenious wrapping. Three etti later I select a lovely copicola and she slices two etti. Almost done, but there are three delicious looking wrinkled dried sausages in the case that I have her add to my order. We pick up some artichokes, along with some truffle sauce, from the prepared foods counter and continue our way up and down the aisles adding pasta, mozzarella di bufala, cantucci, and other staples to our cart. The cheese section is also immense. Cinzia points to a sign that says “pecorino” and notes that where in America would there be an entire section of sheep’s milk cheeses to choose from. You are also given a choice when buying your Parmigiano Reggiano. How many months of aging would you like? We went with the 24 month variety.
With our cart filled with what I hope can handily be carried in two reusable bags, we complete our check-out and head to the bus stop where the #7 returns at 11 minutes past the hour. Bad luck – we missed it by 10 minutes and have to wait. We find a shady spot and I walk to the bar to pick up a couple drinks while we wait. Soon we find ourselves back in the piazza of Torre Orsina, cursing Enrica as we must now haul these heavy bags up into il colle to our home. Now dripping with sweat, we put away our groceries, take a cool shower, make some sandwiches of prosciutto, tomatoes, and mozzarella, and then lay down for a nap. So very lazy and wonderful.
Still too full from our late lunch, we leave the house just after 8pm to go to the bar. The new couple that runs the bar isn’t well liked, and few people are about (though it is only 4 August). After a drink and engaging in some small talk with the locals, we decide to pop in on Elda. She is just wrapping up dinner. Her son, Damiano is there with his wife Valeria and their two children, Giulia and Paolo; her daughter Daniela and her girlfriend, Roberta; her cousin Antonella and her husband Cesare and daughter Ginevra. We’re offered a piece of cheesecake that Valeria made – sweet mascarpone with candied pignoli on top. We talk long into the evening, eventually joined by Maria Giulia. Cinzia’s Italian has vastly improved, and I’m impressed by how much she understands and speaks. Brava Cinzia! The dinner finally breaks up at midnight as everyone says their goodbyes and makes their way home. A very exhausting Saturday.
On Sunday, I sleep until 8:30am, tinker around on the computer a bit until Cinzia joins me. I have a cornetto albicocca, a piece of fruit (looks to be the size of a peach, but the color and taste of an apricot, and perfectly ripe and juicy), and some Coke. Now, I’m ready for a nap, so I leave Cinzia sitting at the table to enjoy the view out the window, RTL 102.5 music TV, and her newly acquired adult coloring book. I linger as long as I can until getting up at 1:30pm feeling a bit hungry, so I prepare a board with some of the meats, cheeses, and fruit from Saturday’s haul. It almost looks too good to eat…almost.
It’s 3:30pm now as I finish this blog only to see a cat jump up on the table in front of me! I shoo it away. Yes, there are several feral cats about this property and they seem to think that it's okay to just walk inside. Where's am I, Roma? Cinzia is busy cleaning and organizing the kitchen only to pop her head into the dining room to ask which pasta bowl I prefer. Maybe some tagliatelle con tartufo for dinner at 8pm before heading to the bar to see if I can find a game of burraco. But who knows, it’s Sunday and I may just rest.