Warm and Fuzzy

I got up incredibly late today. Deme went to visit my old cat at my sister’s house last night and sent me a text message that he had arrived. I woke up inexplicably and checked my text messages, then asked him to call me. It was 5 a.m. of course I could not get back to bed.

When I finally heaved myself out of bed, it was 11 a.m. I immediately set out to start some water for tea as well as switch on my laptop. I was elated to see all the comments on my blog as well as a few thoughtful e-mails in my box. A warm and fuzzy feeling took me over. Thank you everyone for the comments and e-mails. Alan in Hawaii received my package and blogged it. Meladie, a long time friend and co-worker of my husband, sent me a sweet comment. Now I just have to get her e-mail address from Deme so I can send her a note.

I am a warm person, the first one to help you move, to come and clean your house if you are sick, pick up groceries, cook for you if you need it, help with laundry, come over for a Fall rake the leaves party, lend an ear if you need to unload, all of this just because I want to hang out with you. I have lots of time, if not today then tomorrow but my life does not center on things or activities, it centers on people. Part of the reason I’ve been feeling lonely is that it’s been hard to make friends.

When I talk to people on the street, they often don’t talk back. I had to be coaxed not to talk to too many people in Seattle because I would not get my errands done.

When I give my number out, no one calls. “When I say here’s my number, call me.” I really mean it, don’t worry about bothering me, I want to hear from you.

When I say “let’s have coffee” I mean soon, not in 3 months. Don’t say it just to be nice, say it if you really mean it.

Many people value their personal time, as do I, but if I stay stop on over, then go ahead, call ahead but feel free. I can tidy up and freshen up in 5 min flat.

Come over for a movie, coffee, a quick visit, tea, a short walk, a bite to eat, to borrow a book, anything…..I don’t want anything from you, don’t need to borrow money, don’t need transportation, just some good quality companionship. Don’t be suspicious. We can meet in a public place, no worries.

Yesterday I called no less than 15 English schools in Torino. I was offering myself as a tutor, free of charge to anyone who wanted to practice English, learn about American idioms, work on their pronunciation etc… Only three took my number. All the others said, “Sorry we do not offer that service to our students.” What!! Free practice with a native speaker, no cost. What a strange reaction! I am willing to travel to the school too. See why I am having a hard time?
All the warm, fuzzy vibes coming from the Internet is making up for the chill here. Thank you everyone.

P.S. I know that I am getting a few Spammers but as long at it’s only 2-3 a week, I will keep the word verification off, since I think it slows things down.

Doggie Dinner

I've kept cooking to a minimum while Demetrio has been gone. Tonight however I made pasta and look who eats pasta like a real pro. Have you ever seen a dog slurp pasta? Well he does!

An Uncommon Narrative

The idea of writing a book is one that I have toyed with for over 10 years. When I was a college student, majoring in biology, I took a few creative writing classes. Partly because I wanted an easy elective I could “Ace” and partly because I have always written some version of my thoughts and ideas. I have poems of teenage angst that date back to when I was 13. I have no less that 3 or 4 diaries completed in various stages. Along with those, loose leaf letters to myself, my parents, God, old loves, friends, sisters; all written, collected but never mailed.

Lately I’ve been doing a lot of reading and re-reading. Here are a few books I have tackled in the past weeks….Snow Falling on Cedars, Memoirs of a Geisha, Angela’s Ashes, Their Eyes Were Watching God, and a children’s book called Out of the Dust, which is written in a poetic free verse style. The most moving piece I have read in a while is the introduction of the cookbook Le Bernardin-4 Star Simplicity. The introduction is written by Maguy Le Coze about her brother (now deceased). She recollects their past in Brittany, their adventures in Paris and finally their success in New York. These few short pages really touched me. What I consider good writing is detailed, makes you feel something, and makes you think.

About 5 years ago I began writing short stories about my family as well as my childhood. I’ve mailed copies off with good reviews/feedback. The primary reason I began writing was to express myself. I gave the stories away as gifts for Christmas (my dad only wanted handmade gifts when we were children). They represented a bit if my/our past (s), my hurts, delights, hope and most all of my love for my family. I’ve experienced so many things, I wanted to archive the events that shaped me and share them with my children.

On a side note: As a nanny I shared stories of my life with the children I cared for and loved. When Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast, one the children mentioned to their parents that as a child I was in a severe typhoon but at the time did not realize its severity. As a naive 3 year old, I ran and put on my bathing suit as the water crept into our apartment. Despite the howling winds, my terrified parents, torrential rains, I prepared myself for an indoor swim.

When I told my mom I was beginning to write she asked me what I was writing about. “My life“, was my reply….Before Deme, before Italy. But I also told her that if I was to write truthfully and unabashedly, I would only publish after she and my dad had passed away. She then gave me what my sisters and I call “her evil eye”; a knowing yet disapproving look.

I have no idea how to write a book. Will a collection of old poems, stories, essays, letters and blog entries substitute for a narrative? If they do it will be an uncommon one.

Longing and Determination

Warning: An “Italy is Not the Paradise you Expected, Not-so-Cheery” post is to follow.

I’ve had a very unproductive weekend. Early on Saturday morning, I drove Deme to Malpensa, the airport in Milan, 1.5 hours away, for his flight to Seattle. The drive was frustrating because after a 30-45 minute stretch of highway, we had to divert ourselves onto two lane roads, straight through 4 small towns before finally reaching the airport. Needless to say this route was quite indirect, a true commuting hassle. On the way back home I missed a turn, and ended up on my way back to the airport. I’ve always been “direction deficient”. After arriving in Seattle, my main challenge was figuring out north vs. south and east vs. west. (During my first year in Seattle, any direction that was in front of me was north.) A lowly 45 minutes after my mix-up I realized my mistake.

The rest of the weekend was spent distracting I; trying to forget the fact I was alone. I wrote letters, listened to music, cleaned the entire house, backwards and forwards. The whines of the dog by the door every time he heard elevator moving between floors did not help. While cleaning Deme’s office of dust, old receipts and loose tobacco, I found a box I had been looking for. It contained all our cookbooks. I took my favorite cookbook out “Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweet-A Journey Through Southeast Asia” and began to rifle through the recipes. I was flooded with two emotions at the same time: longing and determination.

Often I think of my parents, all their struggles and all they have taught me. This is a very Chinese thing to say but then I am Chinese aren’t I. All my years in American have softened me a bit but will never erase:

-Chinese New Year with all the good omens it brings, the vibrant red envelopes, the moon cakes, the visits with cherished family and friends.
-My mom’s Pho, one of my favorite foods, the most fragrant broth I’ve ever tasted, enhanced by my favorite herb in the world, (I have no idea how to spell it in English) I only know how to pronounce it in Vietnamese.
-My dad’s wonton, they would give Piemontese angolotti del plin a run for its money.

We have promised my parents that our first major vacation will be to Guam. I’ve had a generous offer from the Daudon Family, whom I used to work for, to come back to Seattle with their frequent flyer miles but I won’t break my promise to my parents. I just hope we can make it before our first wedding anniversary in December.

Southeastern Asian food is fantastic, as a child I ate curries, fragrant soups with tamarind, wild limes, things I can no longer readily get my hands on. I miss these foods; I want to be able to re-create them. Adriana, an old friend of Deme’s, who lives in London, gave a wonderful gift the last time I was in Rome. It melted my heart since I knew my husband had told her how much I missed home, how hard it has been for me to find Asian ingredients. Since I have not spoken to her in over 6 months I knew her gift was my husbands doing. When we went to pick her up she handed me a bag of the most pungent, “I can smell it through a plastic bag and an unopened jar” authentic fermented Thai shrimp paste!!!! I almost leapt with joy. I am determined to turn my longing into something material, namely food. Maybe then I will feel less culturally impoverished. Maybe then I will feel less lonely.

TGIF-Thank Goodness it's Friday

It’s been a week of lessons for Chiara. She is learning quickly even though she is a bit shy and reserved. After the first week, we made a card for her mom and she read it. “For Mama, I Love You” very cute. She knows when I am asking her:
her name, her age, where she lives, if she has a brother, his name and age etc.. Little things this first week. We done letters, numbers, colors, and although Italian children start school I year later than American kids, she is right one track for her age.

Riccardo, her brother, hangs around us and hears English but does not directly take part in the lessons. The pay is low but the lessons give me structure in my day and force me to get out of the house. Elisabetta, the mother of the children, is an open minded person from the South and had been very friendly and sweet. She values my services and appreciates me which feels very nice. I am glad to have found a delightful diversion in Chiara and Riccardo.

I spent my first weeks pay on film and photographic paper which should last me a while, maybe next week, I will actually purchase and item of clothing.

The Meatrix

As a housewife everyone knows I have a lot of time on my hands. I think I spend at least 2-3 hours on front of the computer per day, Deme jokes soon I will find a webpage that reads “You have reached the end of the Internet!” This I sincerely doubt. I find myself on strange websites, informative ones, blogs and all the fluff in between.

About 2 weeks ago I found myself on a website that showed how ducks and geese were raised for foie gras. Today I found a site called The Meatrix that is a spoof on The Matrix but describes the plight of family farms vs. factory farms. This is an animated film, tame but to the point. I'll let you search for the more gruesome ones. At the end of the short movie, you can enter your U.S. zip code and locate a grocery store or restaurant that buys meat and produce from family farms. They listed Whole Foods and the various Co-Ops that I used to belong to, as non-factory farm alternatives. I had no problem paying 21.99/lb of USDA dry-aged beef from Whole Foods.

I wonder if I could find such a thing here in Italy. I wonder if Italians know or care where their meat/poultry comes from. Everyone thinks that Italy is a food haven, which it is, with fresh market foods available daily. Italy however is also home of some of the largest supermarkets I have ever stepped foot into. I also found out recently that the Netherlands is the largest EU importer of meat. I think of bulbs, dikes, windmills, clogs etc… Who knew? I wish I could type in Torino somewhere and be transported to a site that tells me names of the butchers that buy their meat from family farms. I hear from other Italians that some farmers here are fond of chemistry and market food may or may not be organic. I loved the farmers markets in Seattle where most of the produce was certified organic.

Growing up a sustenance farm, I had my own chicken named Henny Penny. She was my pet, a tame chicken that I could hold and hand feed. We never killed her, I made my mom promise. She died of old age when I was in high school. I think she was about 10 years old. While I was watching the animal videos, I thought of her.

The First Lesson

After a morning of gorging of chocolate chip banana bread, I headed off to meet Elisabetta and her 2 children. I was introduced to this family by my American friend Linda who was giving lessons to the cousins of Elisabetta’s children. The little girl, 5 years old, is contemplating attending the American School here in Torino next term. Her mom wanted her to get a jump start on her English and wanted to see if she had a propensity for the language. Her little brother, 3 years, is a wild one but sweet at the same time. I am mainly focusing my time on the girl but also exposing the little boy to a bit of English as well.

We began the lesson by me asking her if she knew her numbers, how to write her name etc… As with most language lessons, we began with greetings. “Hi. How are you? What is your name? How old are you? Where are you from?” She took to me rather quickly. After a shy start she warmed up, chatting away. Next we read a few of the English children’s books I brought; when those were all exhausted, I was asked to read “Finding Nemo” in Italian. I was doing rather well, he little boy however kept correcting me, he kept saying “Nay-mow” not “Knee-mow” and I told him that I was pronouncing it the English way. “Oh” he said suspiciously. As Elisabetta drove me home, we chatted about how intensely she wanted her daughter learn. We decide on 4 days a week, 2 hours each time.

I’ve got my work cut out for me, but I’ve faced similar challenges before. The toughest nut I had to crack was with Daniel, one of the boys I used to take care of. We had less that a week to memorize the 50 states and their capitals. How could I get him to say “Hartford” when I said “Connecticut”? Hmmmm… I came up with the following pneumonic device “Con-neck-ti-cut”, “Neck=body part”, “Cut, who does cutting of body parts?” “Answer=surgeon” “Surgeons cut hearts=Hartford” It’s a long connection but once you get the image and words into your mind, its hard to get rid of. 25 states later, Daniel’s confidence improved, so I did not feel so guilty leaving the other 25 for his mother. On the day of the test, he got a 49 out of 50. Yippee!

Warm and Toasty

In Seattle, summer is mostly over. As a nanny, I was often at work by 3:30 p.m. waiting for my older kids to get off the bus and walk the 1 block from the bus stop to the house. As Fall cooled the air and brought on the mist that Seattle is famous for. We kept warm and toasty with Twinnings English Breakfast tea, steeped to perfection, enhanced with a little dab of honey and milk and all sorts of warm baked goods. A few of our favorites were Chocolate Chip Banana Bread, Pumpkin Bread, Blueberry and Lemon Coffee Cake and the quintessential Chocolate Chip Cookies.

This morning as it drizzled here, I got a craving (yes another) for the banana bread I used to make for the kids. Over the years I have tried to sneak whole wheat flour into this recipe but it never tasted as good.

Here the recipe:

Chocolate Chip Banana Bread
(makes 12 muffins or 1 large loaf)

3 mashed bananas
½ c. butter, softened
2 eggs, room temp.
1 C. sugar
2 C. flour, sifted
1 t. baking soda, sifted
1 t. vanilla
Pinch of salt
Dash of nutmeg
Handful of chocolate chips
Handful of chopped and toasted nuts (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 350 F
2. Cream the butter and sugar, until the sugar crystals have all vanished.
3. Add the eggs, one at a time. Add vanilla
4. Add bananas.
5. Add all the dry ingredients
6. Last but not least fold the chips and nuts into the batter.
7. For muffins, grease and flour muffin tins, tops edges too, in case of spillover and bake for 20-25 minutes. Check with a wooden toothpick or skewer.
8. For the loaf, pour batter into greased and floured loaf pan. Set oven racks to the middle position, bake for 1 hour-1 hour and 15 mins. If the top browns too much, cover with aluminum foil after 30-45 minutes.

Note: For this bread to be moist, it must not be overbaked. I check it with a wooden skewer and take it out of the oven when I see little crumbles on the skewer, not when it comes out clean. Leave the bread in the pan for 20 minutes to set and then turn out onto a wire rack to cool. Enjoy with a pat of sweet butter. Store in an airtight container or in plastic wrap.

Roskette

Once in while I get strange cravings. Last night, I woke up at 2 a.m. with a great thirst. My throat was absolutely parched. Some nice cold orange juice sounded fantastic so I headed for the refrigerator. After hopping back into bed, I began to get thirsty again. Twice last night I woke up for a drink, this time I had a tall glass of 2% milk. After going back to bed a second time, I began to dream about the one thing in the world that could bring on a thirst as powerful one I had just experienced. My mind drifted back to my childhood and mouthful of crisp, dry, Roskette cookies. How the image and taste of these cookies invaded my unconsciousness, I have no idea. It had been almost four years since I last tasted them.

These cookies are a specialty of Guam. Roskette (Row-Sket-Tay) are a bit like English and Scottish shortbreads and they are a bit like good crisp sugar cookies. Roskette however are a bit more delicate, this is mostly due to their pretzel shape. The mom and pop stores on Guam always carried these cookies, as well as guyoria, which are coconut fritters/candies that are as hard as jawbreakers. I love the dry, crumbly texture and the wonderfully light, sweet flavor. These cookies are plain, with no overwhelming flavors. What I enjoy is how they pair perfectly with ice cold milk.

Here the recipe I tweaked after searching the internet and my Guamanian cookbook.



Roskette
Makes 2-3 dozen
½ C. bakers sugar, sifted
½ C. butter
1 egg
1 C. flour
1 C. cornstarch
1 t. vanilla
¼.C. milk
½ t. baking powder
Pinch of salt

1. Cream butter and sugar. Add egg, flour, cornstarch, baking powder and vanilla. When well blended slowly add milk.
2. Make small balls about 1 inch in diameter, dust hands with a bit of flour to prevent sticking. Work fast or the dough will soften too much or you could put ½ of the dough in the refrigerator while you are working.
3. Roll the dough balls into long ropes about 7-9 inches long. Twist them into a pretzel shape and place on a parchment lined baking sheet dusted with flour.
4. Bake in a 350 F, preheated oven for 20 minutes or until golden but not dark brown.
5. Slide the parchment off the cookie sheet to cool.
6. Enjoy with glasses of cold milk.

LASIK Part 2

I went in for another eye consultation today and although I thought I was doing to get a LASIK procedure, I am actually going to receive PRK. There are basically only two good eye clinics in Torino and both do PRK. Find out the differences here.

Basically both procedures use the same laser, the main difference is the technique used to allow the laser to access the cornea. In LASIK, a tiny flap is cut in the eye and the laser then does it job resurfacing your cornea. In PRK, a solution is put on the eye and the surface layer of the cornea is “rubbed” off to access the inner cornea. The same laser then goes about its business. Obviously there is more aftercare with PRK and less risk since no surgery is needed.

Demetrio had LASIK in Washington and he was fine right after the procedure, the only glitch he had was a small blood spot in his eye for a week. A co-worker of Demetrio‘s, from Idaho, got LASIK in Vancouver B.C. and said he had pain after the procedure. Deme’s sisters had PRK, it is cheaper than LASIK, in Rome and one was in pain for 2 days while the other went to the seaside the same day. I took all this feedback into consideration and decided to go ahead with the procedure. We booked an appointment for November 10 for one or both eyes, I still have to decide. I am excited not to have to wear contacts ever again. There are three criteria I have to fulfill before going ahead with the PRK.

The doctor asked me the adhere to the following:

1. Do not go into a swimming pool 1 month before the procedure, something about germy water and it getting into your eyes.
2. No tanning 3 months before, this was easy; I have not been to a tanning salon in a year.
3. Stop hormonal contraception 3 months before the procedure.

Here a photo of my soon to be fixed eye(s).



Notice the yellow "stains" on my eyeball, the result of wearing contact lenses for years and for many hours a day. The doctor told me that the contacts lenses basically were suffocating my eye and I should wear them for fewer hours in the day. Now I put my glasses on in the morning and go about my morning at home, when I have to leave to go out I put my lenses in. Also at night I have been trying to wear my glasses a few hours before I go to bed so my eyes have a chance to breathe.

The Splendid Table

I am so glad I found the Splendid Table Online. I discovered it only recently and can't tell you how much I enjoy it. When I was living in Seattle, I used to catch glimpses of the show when I was buzzing from one place to another in the car but now I can listen to the entire program. Since I am at the computer all the time, I have the wonderful opportunity to search their archives too. The show is a wealth of information and gives me great ideas. Check it out!

Today I am listening to:

The History of Zinfadel
Curry
Bread Gear
Organics in California
Then listener phone calls

Green Tea Panna Cotta

Finalmente! Finally I've gotten my act together and made Green Tea Panna Cotta with the "matcha" sent all the way across the Pacific and Atlantic oceans from Alan and his family. Working with the "matcha" was truly a learning experience.


The powered green tea was a gorgeous color. The colors of celery, celadon, lime, grass bamboo all blended together to produce one of the most intense green's I've ever seen. I felt as if I was working with fine paint granules instead of a food product.



If you've ever eaten sushi with wasabi paste then you know that soy sauce should be added to the paste bit by bit at first until a thick paste is achieved. If you add all the soy sauce at once then all you get is soy sauce with green clumps floating in it. It was pretty much the same thing with the "matcha". It clumps up when a large amount of liquid is added to it. I have seen Japanese Tea Ceremonies on T.V. and realize now why a whisk is used to blend the tea with the hot water.


Here is the panna cotta cooling and getting ready to be placed in to the refrigerator to cool. I used two kinds of ramekins. One was the traditional one you see here, thick and ceramic. The other was a rounded chrome ramekin. I preferred the metal one, after I ran my knife around the edges and gave it a dip in hot water, the panna cotta slipped out easily.

Here's the finished product with a ginger spiced creme anglaise and a light dusting of "matcha" on top. I was excited to see how my desserts turned out so I woke up early and eat them for breakfast.



A few tasting notes: The panna cotta held its shape when un-molded and I was afraid I used too much gelatin. I was working with leaf gelatin and I was not sure how to substitute 1 T. Knoxx gelatin with the leaf variety, so I made two versions. One with one sheet of gelatin and the other with two sheets. The panna cotta was delicious, properly set, not too hard, not too soft, creamy, and smooth. Deme gave it a taste and said it had a tiny bit of a bitter aftertaste. I agreed somewhat but green tea does taste bitter without sugar. I did not want a cloyingly sweet dessert. I was hoping to reveal the true flavor of green tea and I think I accomplished that goal. If I make this dessert again soon, I made make two versions and compare them; one with a bit more sugar than the other. Here's the winning recipe:
Green Tea Panna Cotta
Makes 4 servings
2 sheets gelatin
2 C. cream
2 T. sugar (or more to taste)
Dash of vanilla extract or better half a pod of fresh
½ t. matcha
¼ t. grated ginger
1. In a large bowl, soak gelatin sheets in cold water and let dissolve.
2. In a small bowl, add 1-2 drops of water at a time to the matcha and blend with a mini whisk or with the back of a spoon until a thick syrupy consistency is achieved.
3. In a large sauce pan add the cream and ginger over medium heat, stirring until just boiling. Remove the pan from the heat.
4. Take the gelatin sheets out of the water, squeeze out the excess water and add to the sauce pan along with the vanilla and the matcha. Stir or whisk.
5. Divide the cream mixture among 4 ramekins and let cool to room temp.
6. Cover, chill for at least 4 hours.
7. Run a knife around the edge of the ramekins then dip them in a bowl of hot water for 3-5 seconds. Invert onto a small plate and serve with a sauce or garnish.
Ginger Crème Anglaise
2 egg yolks
2 t. sugar
1 C. milk
Dash of vanilla
Pinch of salt
1 T. grated ginger
1. In a large bowl, whisk the yolks and the sugar.
2. Scald milk, pinch of salt and ginger in a small sauce pan.
3. Temper eggs with a bit of warm milk, a ladleful at a time until all the milk has been added to the eggs.
4. Return the entire mixture to the sauce pan. Add vanilla and cook on low until crème coats the back of a spoon.
5. Test by dipping wooden spoon into crème mixture. Run your finger across the crème that coats the back of the spoon. If the crème is thick enough, the line you’ve created with your finger will hold and will not run.
6. Cool then chill and reserve for later use.

The Darkroom Part II

After running around last week looking for chemicals, (which I only found 2 out of 3), I improvised and ended up printing a few photos today. See the results below with my comments:



Many of you may recognize this as Piazza San Marco in Venice. The pigeons usually give it away. I was in Venice last spring and shot this very elegant and distinguished man strolling through the square. He looked as if he was in no hurry at all, I love that I caught him in mid-step and with pigeon frozen as it flew out of his path.


This fountain was located in another square somewhere in Savannah, Georgia. I paid a visit to my sister in 1996 or 1997 when she was studying at the Savannah School of Art and Design.

This is my cat Bak-Gai taking a drink from my fish bowl. The fish however does not look bothered. I adore the way his tongue is so gently lapping up the water that it does not make even a ripple.



I call this photo "Bak-Gai Spooky". This cat is a lover and in this photo he seems almost sinister. It's amazing how light can play tricks on you.

Going, Going, Gone

When your acquainted with an espresso lover like my husband, there is no such thing as too many coffee cups, too many espresso services and too much coffee period. We stock decaf, regular, 2% milk, whole milk, cream, cocoa powder with and without sugar, I think you get my drift. Fergal and Alice have added yet another set to "his" and now "our" collection. These lovely cups have a ergonomically designed handle that fits your thumb and forefinger to a "T". While the long undulating saucer allows for biscotti or your choice of cookie or biscuit. I made tonight's coffee on their gift to us. Thank you Fergal and Alice, every last drop was delicious!




Going......



Going......



Way Gone......

A Lunch with Friends

I think by now everyone knows that Deme and I got married after only dating for 8 months or so. In such a short time it’s been difficult to really get the full scoop on this past. I’ve met good friends, work friends, old girlfriends, family members, old high school friends and to his credit, he is a great story teller but not a very revealing person. When I learned that his old roommate from Ireland and his wife were coming to Rome, I saw it as a perfect example to learn more about my husband. I relished the stories such as the ones they told about going to the “chipper” for fish and chips after a night at the pubs. When I first decided to marry this man, I wanted to know everything about him right away. Of course I did not get what I wanted but slowly he is unfolding to me in a way that makes my past impatience seems childish.


Here's the Irishman himself, hopefully I'll have other chances to pick his brain in the future.


Alice and I. We're smiling for the camera but with tummy's grumbling for lunch.



The most artistic plate of the day, a mixed plate of raw seafood. The giant red prawns and scampi were sweet and delicate.


The second best plate of the day, Fergal's first course. The salmon was perfectly complimented by tomatoes and a pesto of celery.

Ostia Antica

There have been no posts for a few days because we ran off to Rome for a long weekend. Some old friends of Demetrio’s flew in from Luxembourg to pay Rome a short visit. After a horrendous night of baggage delays, we finally retrieved them at 1:30 a.m. The next day was a bit more relaxing as we toured Ostia Antica, an ancient Roman harbor city.



An ancient theatre which now host concerts and theatre shows in the summer.


Very detailedmosaicc tiles.



Many rooms were tiled with elaboratemosaicss that have survived since about 1000 B.C. Notice the yellow tarp that is used to cover the tiles during especially bad weather.


The giant maritime pines that dot Ostia as well as many other parts of Italy, the most notable is the Appian Way, are the producers of the pine nuts that are used in making pesto. I picked up a few fallen pine cones but could not crack them and thus did not get to see the pine nut in its natural state.

We are marveled at the intricate brick work.



Here tour guide D'Ambrosi, points out the necropolis in the background.


A headless statue that did not survive either time, weather or vandals.

Look what I found at the health food store, Pizza flavored Tofu. I was too chicken to try it though.

Things I Have Noticed About Italy Part 5

Yes I am still in awe of the all the differences between Italy and the United States. Many things catch my attention and these are my newest observations.

1. Uncut Dogs
My poor dog is the only dog I’ve seen in the past 6 months who is neutered. Sometimes people look at his rear end to figure out if he is a male or a female. They often ask me “maschio” or “femmina” because they believe males will fight when put together. My dog may be missing his b*lls, but he still thinks he’s a miniature Great Dane.

2. Kids suck on pacifiers until 3, 4 and even 5 years old
Enough said! I find this weird, Chinese folks don’t’ use pacifiers and Americans usually get rid of the pacifier when the child is weaned about 1-2 years old. Here it’s almost obscene.

3. Baby Scales
Italians love babies. They may not be having very many of them but I think that is what makes them so precious. This past weekend we strolled around downtown and waltzed into a high-end electronics store. Nestled among the CD players, computers, hi-fi’s and big screen TV’s, were little scales to weigh babies. This type of scale seems a bit useless since after the infant starts to move around, 3-4 months, the scales’ numbers would seem to fluctuate and not be accurate. I have never seen this in the U.S.; it surprised me and gave me a giggle at the same time.

4. Hair removal products
In the store mentioned above there were machines and machines and machines, in fact a whole case full of depilating devices. Little apparatus for pulling, shaving, trimming and waxing hair off various parts of the human body. I think everyone associates southern Italians with hairiness… Men with hair all over their backs like fur coats, women with fuzzy moustaches (for a great example check out the movie, Divorce Italian Style) but in fact I have been told Sicily is full of blondes. There are however no shortage of women in Torino with moustaches and little beards. I guess it’s a countrywide phenomenon.

5. No squirrels
The furry, fat, grey American squirrel has not made it across the Atlantic Ocean. Here the only animals that pester you in public parks are deformed and decrepit pigeons. On terrace rooftops, the pests are magpies and really evil looking crows.

6. Turkish toilets
I have not seen these toilets aka stinky holes in the ground since I went to Thailand. These types of toilets, the ones you swat over, remind me of Asia but they are also common here in Italy. About 40-50% of bars and restaurants here have these types of toilets. After I figure this out, I try my hardest to avoid them. I would much rather pay the 50 cents it costs to used a public water closet with seat protectors and toilet paper.

7. Eggs are not refrigerated
This seems like a USDA “no-no” but we aren’t in Kansas anymore are we? I was taught/learned/indoctrinated that eggs must be refrigerated at all costs. Is salmonella non-existent in Italy? I have no idea but the grocery stores here have eggs on shelves just like boxes of cereal.

Care Package No. 2

My very first care package was from my sister Sara, she came to the rescue when I had a chocolate chip cookie craving. Last month, Alan made green tea ice cream and wrote about it. I saw the post and started drooling. In Seattle, I used to get good green tea mochi ice cream balls. There is no way I can find matcha here in Italy. Matcha is the powdered green tea that is used in Japanese Tea ceremonies.

I think Alan and his family felt sorry for me and could feel my homesickness all the way across both the Pacific and Atlantic oceans. Without provocation, they sent me a care package and I received it today.



I received Hawaiian sea salt, matcha, loose leaf green tea, and li hing powder along with a nice note. Alan hoped that I would make something with the matcha and I suggested green tea panna cotta. I better start perfecting my recipe!

Our Family Tree

The idea of compiling our family tree has been around for years. When I was 26 years old, while vacationing on Guam, I sat my dad down one after dinner; it was during that evening that I discovered my mom and dad’s full names in Chinese. When I was growing up, my mom and dad were simply “mom” and “dad”. Dad wrote the names down, pronounced them, as I recorded his words. When I returned to Seattle and told a good friend what I had uncovered, she was shocked that I had not known earlier. I explained to her that it is a Chinese tradition to address one’s family members, especially those who were senior to you, by their position in the family instead of their names. Here’s a perfect anecdote to describe what I mean.

In late 1991, I was due to arrive in Seattle for my first winter term at Seattle University. Before classes began, my dad decided it would be nice for me to reconnect with his brother, who lived near Vancouver, B.C. I had not seen him in over 17 years, since I was 2 in Vietnam, so I was nervous.

One afternoon, my cousin Hank and a friend Alex, decided to take me to the mall just across the American border in Bellingham, WA. After a couple hours of window shopping and people watching, we headed home. To my surprise and astonishment, we were stopped at the border. (I had purchased some new leather boots and a suede jacket in LA the week before. They thought I bought them in WA and was trying to get past the border guard without paying duty.) They separated us and took me into an interrogation room. To make a long story short, they asked me who I was staying with; I answered “my dad’s third brother and his wife”. No, I did not have a name, I did not have an address, I knew my cousin’s American name but I did not know his American last name. I thought I was dead meat and almost started to cry. Hank pleaded with them in the other room and explained I was a naive islander from Guam, etc….. After 15 minutes, they searched our car and let us go. Obviously we did not tell my uncle and aunt until about 5 or 6 years later; enough time had passed that allowed us to actually laugh about it.

Back to the present, when my sister Sara and I spoke last night, she was planning to somehow collect family photos and set them up in a database. This will (knock on wood) allow family members to search for photos by date and name. Undoubtedly it will be a colossal task because my mother has 13 brothers and sisters and my dad has 6. Everyone is spread out all over the world, we have family in Hong Kong, Germany, Norway, Guam, all over the U.S., the Philippines, and I think we still have family in Vietnam. This family tree/photo archive idea is one that I have been thinking about for a very long time. Now that someone else is avidly on the bandwagon, this project has picked up steam. I’ve begun making a few calls and inquiries, being the oldest and speaking a bit of Cantonese are coming in very handy.

Hurricane Katrina

As you can imagine I read a tons of blog everyday and lately everyone has been writing about Hurricane Katrina and her effects. In no way do I want to minimize the devastation she has caused to the Gulf Coast. I have never lost a family member or friend in a hurricane but growing up on Guam I have lived through my fair share of typhoons. Basically they are different names for the same thing, when you mix water and wind; the results can be very destructive. Read more about the differences here.

Our first typhoon was Super Typhoon Pamela (May 1976), with wind gusts of 140-160 mph and up to 187 mph. Our family was living in an apartment and after the water began to creep into our home, we fled to a friend’s home. We stayed there for a while, I don’t recall how long but when were came back to our apartment, it was gone. Pamela destroyed abut 90% of all the homes on Guam.

Over the next, 16 years or so, until I left for college, we experienced many typhoons, Russ, Omar, Yuri, Pongsona, and more. When a tropical storm approaches the island, it’s obvious because of the rain. If that storm somehow metamorphoses into a typhoon, Guam has a typhoon warning system that alerts its people. It’s not a perfect system but it helps. When the island has reached Condition 2, a typhoon is predicted to strike in 24 hours. Now is the time to stock up on food, water, batteries, candles, and other emergency supplies. Also windows are boarded up, animals are taken indoors and as many things as possible are secured around our home. Condition 1, means the typhoon is due in 12 hours. People who still live in non-concrete homes rush to schools and take shelter there as they wait for the storm to pass.


After the storms it was quite normal not to have running water for a couple of weeks and not to have any electricity for a few weeks also. I remember as a child taking a bath in a 50 gallon oil drum that we had places outside to collect rain. As a teenager I even ran off to the beach to watch the big waves roll in. On year when I was away at school, Guam was hit by 5 typhoons in a row. My sister Kentra has a t-shirt that proclaims she is a Typhoon Ace since she survived all 5. There are two typhoons however that I am glad not to have experienced. Typhoon Karen (Nov. 1962), it is said there was so much rain when she slammed into the island that graves floated up from their resting places. Super Typhoon Paka is infamous and will remain so until another Super Typhoon replaces him. With wind gust of up to 236 mph, it caused 500 million dollars of damage to Guam but miraculously no one was killed.

I feel for all those suffering from Hurricane Katrina. May the Gulf Coast make a speedy recovery.