Flavors & Surroundings - Super Mercato Shopping in Florence

I'm a jill of all trades when it comes to shopping. I love a good shoe, to me Sephora is the closest thing to Heaven and a supermarket can be a blinding oasis for my inner chef. I never thought of stores as challenges or safe havens but while abroad they became just that. Places for cultural exploration (or confusion), air conditioning, money changing, phone recharges and refreshment. In London, it was the newsstand with lemony water and Clark bars. In France, it was the open air market with strange smells and tasty delights. In Spain, it was the plethora of ham and tropical flavors of every yogurt imaginable. In Italy, it was just bad. The only supermarket we entered was dark, dismal and had warm Cokes. The alternative was dark, dismal and gourmand. Surely, I want jars of olives, sauces and pasta that was stretched by hand but it isn't practical. What I missed was the variety of a Publix and the access of a Super Walmart. If Rome was bad, Florence was worse and for all the same reasons. There was the dismal and the inaccessible. Then it became whatever works and Sapori & Dintorni.

The Papa and The Pizza

From the moment we arrived in Rome we'd been greeted by a pizza papa in a window. It didn't matter the time or day he was simply there. In that window he was rolling dough and making garlic knots. He would sometimes have it down a bit and talk to people through it. Whenever we walked by he would do some ditty for us. He'd tap on the glass or blow us a kiss. It would always make us smile. After the long hard journey to the Vatican we felt ready for some pizza. Oddly enough the papa wasn't there but his place was waiting for us. When we walked past all tired and irritated there was no papa to cheer us up. Instead there was a snarky maitre d putting on his new tie in the foyer. As we peered in looking to see the papa he quickly tidied himself and approached us. He asked did we like pizza. He said we could have pizza just for two. He then said the papa would be back in a few hours. So we told him we'll be back when papa returns.

Footsteps to Sora Lucia

Rome has this great sense of nostalgia. You know of the places and you feel this overwhelming familiarity. Why? You've seen everyone else there … in the movies, on tv and in ads. You feel prepared to walk in the same footsteps of those before you. Those same cobblestone streets. Those same obscure cafes. In the moment you cannot breathe to figure out which direction to go. The anxiety swells up inside of you. What a magical position to be in! To walk, drink, eat, laugh, cry where others have done the same. It's like a honor and homage at the same time. Just being there is enough but that is just the start. To be able to just walk to all points of interests - ancient, classic and modern - you want to run. Trust me on one night in particular I wanted to sprint. 

When In Rome

When I think back to Rome I first recall the energy. There was mutual anxiety about the unknown. Neither one of us bothered to learn Italian. I relied on Google to teach me how to say "hello" and "excuse me". She thought her Spanish alone would suffice. For the first time we both had no phone service. The maps didn't work. We didn't have any guidance. There were no plans. We both had short, varied lists of must sees. We just hadn't talked about them since NYC. Surely those lists had changed. I tried to research things and talk about the Roma pass for us. I assumed that was enough. However, we never settled on the pass or anything Italy. Yet things were kosher. The frustrations had only subsided for the journey. Once we landed they returned ten fold. We now were on separate paths. The airport - insanity. The hotel - an hour away. We didn't even know who we were in Rome. Were we Americans? Were we EU travelers? Were we rebels that bypassed customs? 

F O O D

In all this reminiscing I keep talking about food. Forgive me but food is a passion of mines. It hasn't always been a thing but travel revitalized it. I'm into other stuff too in fact a lot of various hobbies and things. As a Gemini I find myself dabbling in anything to keep from being bored. I even consider myself a "Jill of All Trades" and it gets hard to focus on one particular talent. Yet as I think back to Europe I can't help but recall the food. Its like all my memories are linked by foodie moments and amazing meals. Since last Summer I've realized when you peel away all my likes - food and cooking prevails. I've been exposed to so many cuisines and techniques abroad; I'm exploring something new almost daily. I've always been one of those kitchen supply store people who buy gadgets and funny colored salts. However, now my passion is driving me to evolve beyond that. I'm thinking about my experiences. I'm remembering my first introductions. So before I go onto things I learned from Spain and move onto my game changing time in Italy - allow me to get back to the basics. At the end of the day it all comes back to food.

City Highlight: Modern Malaga

As much as I feel like I've repped Malaga, I haven't even broken the surface with places of interest. Malaga is a playground full of things to see and do. Malaga is the Disneyland of Spain with a touch of the Smithsonian. The real issue is as much magic as there is for everyone it may be impossible to see it all. Most of the factoids about this city I found out well after I left. So just like those touristy epicenters mentioned above you cannot see it in one day or visit - you simply have to revisit over and over again. I'll always have my beloved locales that I must see. However, I now know of so many places I missed and long to go.

Croquettas

Upon arrival in Madrid we came from below ground. We arrived in the middle of a plaza with a statue of a huge bear. We then immediately noticed the policia. We'd surely noticed them in Barcelona but their presence was heavier in Madrid. In this particular square they roved in vehicles with their hairy forearms hanging out the windows. Spain's cops are pretty damn sexy without even trying. They all seem to be these late 30's early 40's salt & pepper haired, blue eyed beasts with long thighs and intense machismo. We soon sought them out choosing which one to marry and or have babies with. When we had our first dinner outing we strolled in and out of their range. They equally roved by us driving slowly between the shops and restaurants. 

Fuck Tapas!

Now I know people travel to eat. It is the best way to know more about the culture of where you are visiting. However, it never occurred to me to travel for food sake. I didn't think about the opportunities in exploring a country through cuisine. I've always been rather open minded about food even calling myself a selective foodie. However, I do have issues. My nose is sensitive. I have redundant colon so I should be choosey. Texture is a problem for me so I may eat sushi one day and be completely turned off by something as simple as tomato seeds the next. Tapas was supposed to be an unintentional, easy way to explore Spain. It was also the most unfulfilling, expensive and nauseating way to explore Spain. I don't regret tapas. I'm happy I tried it once, twice ... four total times. After that I just wondered the streets hungry looking for any alternatives. One could never imagine how difficult it is to just find a decent burger in a world of Iberian ham and funny colored olives. Seriously, there are only so many things even a foodie can tolerate.

City Highlight: Nantes

Let me spring back to my stay in Nantes. Having stayed there just short of a month I had plenty of time to explore and learn about the city. First of all, Nantes is pronounced nahnt. The city is an amazing mix of Medieval old world, Britagne rule and French moderne. I've mentioned how Nantes appeared to be a mini Paris and in actuality it is far from it. Surely, Paris has neighborhoods, historical landmarks and cultural spots but it isn't moving like Nantes. Nantes is bustling yet small. The city is constantly working to NOT be Paris. Nantes boasts an epic public transportation system, a city-wide green campaign and a supportive arts community. The outcome is a city on the brink of next all the while keeping it extremely real and very old French. 

Tres Bon a F Bar

I never had the luxury of recovering from jetlag without leaving the confines of my room. That very first full night I was coaxed out to meet people. The friend she was staying with was a musician of some sort. She had met her in D.C. just before our NYC trip and met her entourage. Her friend traveled with a band and a dance troupe. So when the tour wound down the dance troupe came back to Nantes. Since meeting them in D.C. they were brought together through social networking. My friend showed me messages from the leader about meeting up for drinks at a local bar. I thought the invite was genuine and approached it with a "When In Rome..." attitude.