Tu Ti Pulisci Bene

You Clean Up Nicely

Table Setting & Program

In November is the annual Marine Ball – and in Rome it’s a fancy event … kinda like adult prom.

During the Ceremony

It starts off with some pomp & circumstance from the Marines – and this year there was an inspiring video about the marines as well.

This picture makes me smile ... :)

Ryan and I got all dolled up …

Showing off our Zumba moves

And then the ladies did Zumba routines in our heels …

(I may or may not have had to borrow a pair of slippers in order to limp my way home…)

It was a fun night!

E i Vinciatori Sono …

And the Winners Are …

All dressed up ...

It’s old news by now, but the Cardinals had an amazing end to their regular season this year, and the post season was pretty good too. Ryan and I don’t have any really good way to watch the games from here – no sports bars, no ESPN, no fellow fans to cheer with. But we manage to find a way.

For our wedding some friends gave us our very own Cardinals jersies. Ryan picked #23 ’cause that’s always been his number

I picked #5 ’cause it was Albert Pujols number, but also Connie Wisniewski‘s #. Connie was the first player of the year in the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League … and she was Polish.

collecting stares in our cards gear on the town ...

Not having anywhere to go to watch the games … we set up to watch them at home. Ryan bought the post-season pass, and we set up the laptop connected to the TV to watch the post season games. The only hard part was that they usually started at 2am. That can be a little rough on trying to go to work the next day. I did my best to stay awake – but Ryan was the real trooper.

Getting geared up for Game 7 ... Game time: 2am.

I think Ryan really missed being able to go out to a sports bar or gather some friends together to watch the game. And while I was there to celebrate with him – it would have been more fun to celebrate with a crowd. That’s one thing we’re certainly looking forward to being back in the states for.

Volley sulla Sabbia

Volleyball on the Sand

Kerri Walsh ... as a colorful statue

The Stadio Flaminio – which I believe is the former home of olympic competition – is really near our house. So we hopped on the motorino to see the finals of the FIVB sand volleyball competition. We rode the motorino, it only cost us 5 euro, and we were in!

Kerri serving, Misty May at the net

Kerri Walsh and Misty May were definitely the highlight for us – though we did watch the mens competition as well. It was sooo cool to see them in person.

Receiving, against Brazil

Conferring during a break

The power and the teamwork of these two women was really amazing to watch in person.

Awards Ceremony

The american ladies ended up in second – and fram face book updates, I’m pretty sure Misty had trouble getting her trophy on the airplane as a carryon with Lufthansa. It was pretty awesome to get to watch the competition in person.

 

Mangiamo Francese a Roma

Eating French in Rome

Rome’s not exactly known for its multi-cultural eating options … so what to do when you’ve left France and you’re craving a crepe? Make them at home, of course!

Ryan manning the crepe pan

We started the evening with a couple of glasses of Kir Royale – ’cause that’s the only way to start an evening of french food.

Chopping onions ... with goggles. I'm not ashamed, they work!

I was sous chef – chopping onions, cutting tomatoes and shredding cheese.

Et Voila!

Spinach, lettuce, bacon, eggs, and gruyere and goat cheese – Could that look more amazing? I venture that it could not.

Strawberries & whipped cream for dessert

We had all the french classics for dessert too – butter, sugar and cinnamon, nutella and banana, and strwaberries with whipped cream and nuttela.

Canned whipped cream ... don't know why, but I find the bottle seriously amusing.

Quale Preferisci?

Which do you prefer?

The Mystery Wines

A friend of ours set up a blind wine tasting at his place. 5 wines, ranging from 2 euro at the grocery store to over 50Euro/bottle. We were given a scorecard, and as we mingled, we tried to figure out which wine was which.

 

It’s a simple concept – but it was *really* *really* fun. Certainly any party that starts with sampling 5 wines is bound to be festive. But the air of competition made it even more fun. When the big reveal happened, there were some who found that they preferred the 2 Euro bottle (lucky them!), and we were in disagreement about the mid-range wines. The biggest twist was that the two most expensive bottles actually had gone bad. I was pretty proud of myself for figuring that out – I’ve only sent wine back once in Rome, and it was a pretty intimidating experience.

Una Cosa di Meno Sull’Elenco

One Less thing on the List

So, I’ve always wanted to sing Karaoke. I looove to sing. But the last time I sang in front of a group was singing ‘Keep on Singin’ by Helen Reddy for a talent show in fifth grade. By the time it came to middle school I had been pretty well convinced that I wasn’t a good singer. Of course – that didn’t stop me from singing all the time in my bed room, and later in my car, and later in my dorm room, and later in my office. (I miss having my own office.)

I’ve wanted to do Karaoke forever, but I’m always way too nervous. I finally did it at a random Karaoke bar in Trastevere. I’m pretty sure it was horrible – I didn’t know how to hold the microphone, and it turns out it’s much harder to sing correctly when the main singer isn’t singing too. But I did it – it’s off the list now. And I feel pretty good about that. Special thanks to my girls who gave me moral support. :)

Un’Esperienza con la Nudità in Turchia

An Experience with Nudity in Turkey

The only picture I have from the baths ...

People argue about the best way to experience another culture. Through the food? Through their history? Through their art?
Apparently Ryan and I have chosen to get to know new culture through their naked rituals. (see the Sauna/Sea experience from Malmo, Sweden)

So, for one last cultural experience, we checked out the Turkish baths at Cemberlitas Hamam in Istanbul. We were there in a group of couples, so the first hurdle to overcome was for the girls to convince the boys that it was a worthwhile experience. Faced with an alternative of more shopping in the markets … I get the impression that none of the options were really winners in Ryan’s opinion. So, two couples headed to the hamam for adventure!

As soon as we walk in the door we choose a spa package, and then the men & women are immediately separated. I was given a pair of black bikini-style underwear, a wrap, and a pair of flip flops and we were led to a locker room. We stripped down and stored all of our belongings in a locker, put on the bikini bottoms and wrapped up in the wrap. The good thing about going to a slightly more touristy hamam is that they always tell you what your’e supposed to be doing. That’s a great relief when you’re naked, and don’t want to do the wrong thing.

The main area in the hamam is as pictured above. In the center is a very large stone (maybe 20 ft in diameter) that is heated from underneath. (And covered with lounging topless women). Around the outside of the stone are little alcoves with running water and silver bowls. I had no idea what the bowls were for … but apparently you catch water in them and pour it over yourself. It’s very luxurious. Except I couldn’t find the guys with the palm frond fans, which was a little disappointing.

After luxuriating with the bowls for a bit … we went and laid on the warm stone with everybody else. Apparently the way it works is that you lay down your wrap, and then you lay yourself on the wrap … and you hang out and wait for your turn to get washed. Did I mention that that’s the whole point of this thing? Apparently not everyone used to have their own bath – so they’d go to a public bath house. Though I’m confused about who actually couldn’t afford a bath, but could pay for someone to wash them. (But I’m too lazy to look it up.) Anyway … so around the outside edge of the big hot stone are turkish women who touch your foot when it’s your turn. Then you arrange yourself at the edge of the stone, face down (and then face up), and they scrub you with a washcloth glove thing (that you get when you walk in) and lots of soap. And you’re covered in suds, and they give you a combo massage/scrub thing. It’s pretty interesting. Then they bring you over to a water spout, rinse off the soap bubbles, and wash your hair.

After that cultural experience … we hung out in the warm pools, and relaxed, and then got massages.

Apparently the guys had been waiting about an hour and a half by the time we came out. They must not be very good at luxuriating. Either that or they were weirded out by all the men with wraps tied around their waists stepping over them on the hot stone. It’s tough to determine.

Buona Pasqua

Happy Easter

What? Is it not Easter anymore? hmmm . . . know what would be neat? If I finished blog posts closer to when I started them. *shrug* … oh well. I want to tell you one of my favorite Easter stories.

Every year my family dyes at least 3 dozen eggs. And every year, on Easter morning, we sit at the top of the steps waiting for everyone to be ready and tracing the easter bunny’s footprints with our eyes. (The easter bunny leaves white powdery footprints from wherever he enters the house. Sometimes it’s the mail slot, sometimes through the chimney, sometimes through a window, from the screened in porch, etc.)

When we’re all ready to go, the youngest child gets to go first. You see, it’s only fair. That way the youngest child has an opportunity to find a few of the easier eggs before the older kids start hunting. Once the youngest child has found a few eggs, the next child starts looking. And then me.

Easter eggs are hidden in the front hall, the dining room and the living room. Think that’s not a lot of nooks and crannies for 3 dozen eggs? So did Ryan.

Before we left for Italy, Ryan had his first Easter egg hunt at my parents house. Not wanting to have an unfair advantage over him, my sisters and I were generous enough to allow him to go first – the first ever modification of the youngest child rule.

Following is my impression of Ryan telling his side:

So, I walk down the steps, and I’m looking around – and I don’t see any eggs. None. And everyone is watching me. I’m lifting a pillow here and there, I’m looking behind things – but it’s a formal-style living room, and I didn’t *really* want to touch anything. Time’s ticking by … they’re all still staring at me … and now they’re laughing. I mean, I’m in Kate’s *parents* house! What am I going to do, dig through all their personal belongings trying to find eggs?

Fortunately the Easter Egg Hunt tradition is prepared for this sort of thing – so the girls give him a few ideas, and we *may have* resorted to ‘hot and cold’. After Ryan found an egg – we relieved him of his misery – and the rest of us all joined in. At first Ryan stood back and watched as we opened the back of the clock on the mantle “Got one!”, dug through the decorative books in the bookcase “Me too!”, lifted couch cushions, moved the bottles in the liquor cabinet, opened drawers, dug through mementos, removed flowers from vases and generally overturned the living room – but, you know, in an orderly fashion. Ryan’s main contribution to the task at hand was exclaiming after one of the girls found an egg “Hey! I looked there!” ;-)

 

But I can’t tell a story on Ryan without telling a little one on me … This year we did an Easter egg hunt with some friends and their kids in Villa Borghese – a big park near our house. The men hid the eggs & then stood guard lest the Italians steal them (no, seriously … ’cause some tried.) I didn’t feel up to the task of watching any kids … but not wanting to shirk all the duties I picked a job I thought I could handle. I was going to watch the cupcakes. Excellent. I can do that. So, I carried the cupcakes from our picnic area down to the easter egg hunt … and I held them. For a long time. A really long time. Did I mention it was a heavy glass dish? How much do 20 cupcakes weigh, anyway? Did you know that it takes a really long time for 4 year olds to figure out what they’re supposed to do in an Easter Egg hunt? Who thought it was a good idea to hide eggs so far away from the children? What do you mean you forgot where they are??

Needless to say, my arms got tired. Putting sweet cupcakes on the ground didn’t seem like a good idea. There are ants on the ground. Definitely not good. But I saw a little concrete column near the bushes – the cupcakes were safely ensconced in a glass dish with saran wrap. They should be fine on a concrete column.

A billion eggs later, we were ready to head back up to our picnic set up and enjoy some cupcakes and cookies. Only oooone teeeny tiny problem. Someone found the cupcakes. Someone went right through the saran wrap and took a chunk out of two of them. Could it have been a child? a bird? I picked up the cupcakes, and started to walk away … and that’s when we saw the (cat-sized) rat … looking for the rest of his snack.

I had *one* job.     *sigh*

I miss these holidays at home.

Ma Fa Freddo! – Malmo, Sweden

But it’s Cold! – Malmo, Sweden

Our Hotel

In November Ryan & I went to a software developers’ conference in Malmo, Sweden. (Just across the water from Copenhagen, Denmark … which explains how we ended up with a bunch of Danish Kronar instead of Swedish Kronar …) We didn’t actually do much in Malmo, even though we were there for a week. The conference lasted all day, including lots of evening events. The conference itself was really good – I always leave a good software conference feeling inspired.

We did wander around some in the evenings though. The only pictures we have of Malmo with light are from the mornings. The sun set every day before 4pm, so we got to see first hand how much the sunlight (or lack thereof) affected us. We found ourselves sitting down for dinner at 5pm. We’d go out for one drink (at $12/beer, we couldn’t afford any more than that!) and then find ourselves back in our hotel room by 8pm staring at the wall. It was so odd.

We did make an effort to at least wander around a bit after dinner though. Malmo is a pretty cute town.

Unfortunately there isn’t much I can say about Malmo that won’t be overshadowed by … The Bathhouse. So I’ll just go ahead and give in to that story.

The adventure begins ... Ribersborg Kallbadhus

The evening event on the very first night was a Swedish experience … Swedish beer, Swedish fish (on toast, not the candy), a lovely Swedish meal… and a naked trip from a steamy sauna into the freezing cold Baltic Sea. Yeah. Seriously. There’s nothing like starting a professional conference with a little nudity, right?

The opportunity to have this experience was too unique to pass up …  but I will say that we reserved the right to back out at any moment. Ryan and I showed up and the only other two women in the room of men quickly found my sides. At least I wasn’t alone … They ‘warmed us up’ with some swedish beer, and we stood around making conversation and trying to imagine how this whole thing was going to work. As it turns out, there were separate sides for men and women (thank goodness!!). So, when the time came, the two Swedish women took me off to the ladies side, and I wished Ryan luck in the sea of men. We walked into the locker room, and I played follow the leader. One of the women was clearly familiar with the concept … so, when she took her clothes off, I took my clothes off. I busied myself making a nice pile of clothes … and then grabbed my towel to follow the leader out of the room. We passed a shower room full of soapy naked Swedish ladies (seriously.) We hung up our towels outside of the sauna, and then doubled back towards the locker room … At this point I decided I wasn’t going to be able to fake it. “Ok, you’re just going to have to tell me what we’re doing now. I thought we go into the sauna…” Apparently we shower before the sauna. *shrug*. ok. So I went into the shower, picked a shower head … and got wet. Next stop was into the sauna. There were three rows of ‘bleachers’ in the Sauna. Watching the pros … I figured out that the tiny towel I was given was for me to sit on. Makes sense … keeps the naked bum off the bleachers. So, there we were … three naked ladies … sitting in the sauna … chatting like it was happy hour. Actually … it wasn’t that weird. We talked about our jobs, and our husbands, and how many women we worked with. We sat in front of a wood stove that was giving off really dry hot heat. There were only a few other women in our sauna – presumably the regulars. So it was pretty relaxed…. right up until it came time to cool off. We tiptoed outside into the cold, climbed down a cold metal ladder, and went all the way into the sea. It was crazy. and cold. and awesome. By that time you’re so warm that it doesn’t feel so bad … and you head right back into the sauna to defrost your toes. We went back & forth between the sauna & the sea several times, and then finally showered (naked soapy swedish ladies again) and got dressed to rejoin the men.

Meanwhile on the men’s side …

Remember how I said there were only 3 women and a sea of men? Imagine how Ryan felt in a sea of naked men. Yeah. There was a dry sauna, a wet sauna, and a coed sauna to choose from … and the men packed all three. There was no ideal place to sit on the bleachers. On the bottom row one’s face was eye-level with every man’s um … well, you can figure it out. On the second row, if one should instinctively turn his head towards the voice of a man he was conversing with … one would find himself intimately engaged with the man behind him on either side. Not to mention what happened when someone wanted to climb past you to reach the top row. Apparently the only acceptable strategy was to look straight ahead & speak to the opposite wall. Except of course for the overly comfortable Swede who leaned against the door naked and free leading conversation and making friends. :)

Apparently there were a number of men who found themselves talking together at the conference later in the week, and all they could think was “I’ve seen you naked.”

My personal favorite was Ryan’s report of what happened when the men talked about what it would be like to be married to another nerd.  Ryan piped up and said “I’m married to a software engineer … she’s over on the women’s side. We just fight over the computer and nothing gets done. ” ;-)

Vino nella Nebbia

Wine in the Fog – Montepulciano

Ryan played Angry Birds on the bus.

In October we went an an embassy sponsored trip to Montepulciano – for a wine tasting, and to check out the town.

The views from the edge of town weren’t as good as they might normally be, because it was foggy out. But the main town square looked eerily beautiful in the fog. You might recognize the square above from one of the Twilight movies – they built a temporary fountain in the middle of it. (For the scene when Edward is planning to step out into the sunlight, and Bella stops him … in Volterra, which is also an Italian town nearby – I don’t know why they didn’t use it)

Our tour began at the Contucci Winery, a winery that began making wine in the 11th Century, and lives in a 16th cetury Palazzo right on that main square.

inside the sitting room

The person who organized the tour has met the Contucci family on several previous visits, so we were fortunate enough to get an extra tour inside the Palazzo itself. The palazzo is still the family home, although they sometimes use some of the common rooms for special events. This room is full of Trompe-l’oeil paintings by an artist who usually only did frescoes in churches. Apparently he was in town painting a church, and knew the family, so painted them a room. They use this room for family weddings, and sometimes for special concerts on their 17th(?) century piano.

Barrels in the Wine Cellar

The tour continued through the Wine Cellar. In Medieval times the cities were walled for the protection of the citizens and their goods, wineries would grow grapes outside the city and then do all of their wine production and storage within the walls to keep the wine protected. There were even escape tunnels in case the city was overrun. The Contucci winery is the only winery that still does all of its wine production within the walls of Montepulciano.

Learning about Wines

The Contucci Winery is best known for Vino Nobile di Montepulciano. Vino Nobile was red wine for the nobles, by the nobles. Italy’s famous chianti was for the lower classes. This one tasting was probably the best I’ve ever attended in terms of learning about the wine. So, bear with me as I share the parts I thought were most interesting.

We tasted:
Bianco della Contessa – White Wine
Vino Rosso – A simpler red Wine
vino Nobile (Misto) – A Nobile with grapes from all of Contucci’s Vineyards
vino nobile (pietra rosso) clay – A Nobile made only with grapes from the Contucci’s ‘Pietra Rosso’ (Red Rock) vineyard, which has clay soil that is very good for san giovese grapes.
vino nobile (Moulin Vecchio) – A Nobile made only with grapes from the Contucci’s ‘Moulin Vecchio’ (Old Windmill) vineyard
Vino Nobile Riserva – A wine made from the very best grapes of the year from their vineyards
(The grape harvesters are actually skilled workers who know how to identify the best grapes)

My personal two favorites were the Pietra Rosso, and the Misto.

Vino Nobile Wine is made from 3 different grapes:
San Giovese: 80% of the wine. This is also the major grape in Chianti and Barolo wine.
Canaiolo Nero: for color
Mammolo: for nose

We learned that 2001, 4, 6, 7, 9 were good years in Tuscany, and that 2002 was so bad that there were no grapes of sufficient quality to make Nobile. That year, they used Nobile grapes to make regular rosso. And Rosso grapes to make table wine.

One of the more amusing parts of the wine tasting was hearing the explanation from the wine experts about Montepulciano d’Abruzzo wine. Abruzzo is another region in Italy. People often confuse Montepulciano d’Abruzzo wine with Vino Nobile di Montepulciano. According to legend the D’Abruzzo wine was started by some men who stole some grape vines from Montepulciano, transplanted them to Abruzzo, and began their own wine production. According to our host, the type of grape used in Montepulciano d’Abruzzo isn’t even found in montepulciano. It was interesting to hear his tirade about the wine. Particularly when he tried to politely explain that the confusion between wines was particularly frustrating because Montepulciano d’Abruzzo used to be undrinkable. He did, however say that the wine has come a long way, and that there are now several good ones. (And it is among the top 3 Italian wines sold: 1) Chianti, 2) Asti, 3) Montepulciano d’Abruzzo)

After the US Embassy visitors bought out the winery, we headed to a cute little Trattoria for a delicious family style pasta lunch.

Then, back in Rome, we tried to figure out how to get all the wine we bought into the trunk of our motorino.

Quote of the Day:
Perche? Perche.
Why? Because.