I guess I didn't need that shower after all...

When I woke up this morning, it was raining gatti e cani. So after taking in the sopping wet laundry that I had left outside on the clothes line all night (oops) and making my coffee, I got right back into bed. Soon enough, however, the clouds had passed and it was a sunny, warm, beautiful day. So I hopped in the shower and headed out to the market down the street from my apartment, which I'm lucky to be living near! Since I live in a really ethnic area (hardly any Italians), you can only imagine the kinds of things they sell at the market. It was absolutely crazy! It's an indoor market and I could barely push my way through the doors. Once I made it in, though, I saw pigs' feet, pig heads, chili peppers, onions, cow tongue...all hanging from the ceiling, and some really amazing produce. And all I could smell were the spices! There were Indian stands, Spanish and Mexican stands, fresh herbs...and everything was so cheap. Anyway, I bought all sorts of great things and then all of a sudden, BOOM! Thunder shook the building and the skies, which were clear and blue ten minutes earlier, opened up and rain came down in sheets. I felt water drops and when I looked up to the glass roof I saw streams of water coming down from some of the slightly ajar windows. Pretty soon there were little waterfalls in the middle of the market, which all the little kids seemed to love, but not so much the vendors. I peeked out the door, but there didn't seem to be any blue sky in sight, so I made a run for home and got completely soaked. Thus the uselessness of my previous shower.

I had a blast looking around, but I was afraid to take my camera out and snap pictures because the clientele seemed anything but tourist-friendly. But I played food-stylist when I got home and arranged my haul on the kitchen counter. All of this for about 15 euro!

For my less visually-inclined audience, here's what I got (approx. from left to right):

half a dozen eggs, fresh Sicilian tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, 200g of prosciutto crudo, fingerling potatoes, 1/2 kg. of dried black beans, 3kg (over 6 lb!) of peaches, fresh strawberries, and a huge loaf of bread that was still hot!

I think I'll make a sort of fried egg and prosciutto sandwich with some fresh mozzarella. And I'll be trying Matt's favorite tomato recipe, pomodori al forno - cooked at 250 degrees for over 3 hours!

Another great perk about this apartment, besides its proximity to this market and its steady source of internet is the American-style coffee pot. It makes it so much easier to wake up in the morning knowing I can have a whole cup of coffee, not just an espresso! My Italian professor had told me about a coffee bar here in Rome that adds a bit of sugar to the ground coffee before brewing it, so I thought I'd give it a try. It was delicious! You can't really taste the sugar, but somehow it makes the coffee taste more like coffee, the way coffee makes chocolate taste more like chocolate.

I was going to try to go to the Villa Borghese today (kind of like the Central Park of Rome), but the weather seems too iffy. As I've seen, it goes from sunshine to pouring rain in a matter of five minutes, and I wouldn't want to be stuck sitting in a huge park when the sky opens up...

Well...

Today, I haven't much to share. 

Last night, I went out to dinner with some friends of a friend of a friend (of a friend of a friend's third cousin's dog...). We ate at a teeny restaurant near the Colloseum called Isidoro, and it was delicious! Albeit a bit expensive. We all got pasta, and the way it works at this restaurant is that for whoever orders pasta, they bring out just one huge family-style plate of pasta of a certain kind (ravioli in ragu, for example). Everyone takes a small portion, and before you're even done with that plate, they bring out another one! And then another! And another! And...well, you get the point. They keep bringing you pasta until you say "BASTA PASTA!" (enough pasta!). So between the six of us, we tasted six different kinds of pasta, all of which I can't remember, but my favorite of which was penne with an olive cream sauce and big black olives. Mmmmm.

This morning was the last day of my Italian class. Which is a bit unfortunate, since my opportunities to speak Italian outside of class seem far fewer. On the bright side, next week my daily cultural studies class won't start until 10:30AM, so I'll be able to sleep in :-)

Other than that, as I said,  not much to tell today. I'm at the apartment on my own this weekend, as everyone else is away! Because I have nothing else interesting to say, I have composed this short poem which I hope will entertain you until I can think of something worthwhile to post tomorrow:

This weekend in Rome

I am on my own.

I shall clean my house

'Til it squeaks like a mouse.

Then I shall shop for flowers

and take long showers

So that I may relax

like Angelina's son Pax.

(The posting of this poem has been pre-approved by my dear friend B.J. Nixdorf. Should there be any objections to its quality as compared to the usual standards of this blog, please contact Bridget at bjn224@nyu.edu. Thank you.)

Oh my...

Well, today was certainly the creepiest of all my days in Rome. We visited a crypt under a Catholic Church (what other kind is there?) where the walls are all decorated with human bones. Since the church was built on top of a cemetery, the monks decided to use the bones they found as well as the bones of the monks that died to create artwork through the church. I think the creepiest thing is that monks of the order continued to live there for 100 years after they started their innovative interior design...

We weren't allowed to take pictures because it would deteriorate the bones, but I manged to find this one online. Hope you find this as creepy (and intriguing!) as I did...

And here's a picture from the inside court of my apartment building, which I just got around to taking a picture of today. It makes me really happy to walk through the gate and see this!

Phew!

What an eventful day! It started with a minor fire (oops) and is ending with cleaning my NEW room (after a second move in 3 days). Let me elaborate:

Yesterday morning, in an act of semi-desperation, I decided that if I couldn't have my usual big cup o' American-style coffee at home before school, I'd settle for some espresso with hot water added (the Italians' idea of American coffee). I waited, waited, waited, but after half an hour, still no espresso. I was running late, so I shut off the stove and ran to school. No, I didn't leave the gas on, if that's what you're thinking. So this morning, being a smart cookie and learning from my mistakes, I woke up and put the espresso pot on before getting in the shower. I took my time, knowing it would take a while.  So when I got out of the shower and smelt a slightly-toasted odor, I was optimistic that it was my coffee! I was extremely disappointed to find that not only had my coffee not brewed, but that the handle had melted off and was burning in a small poo-resembling pile next to the burner. Luckily, I was able to douse the fire with about a juice-glass's worth of water, but I couldn't save the espresso pot. Notice the "poo-resembling pile" and the surrounding water...

About the move! If this is a surprise to you, it was to me, too! After moving into a new apartment on Sunday, I was glad to just get out from the grips of Fiorella. But a few days there quickly revealed that there would often be a third person at the apartment, or no one else at all, but more often the former. Which left Carolyn at her and Joe's apartment all by herself most of the time. So Carolyn and I formed a united front, declaring that we wouldn't be left alone any longer every night! Or put up with canoodling! With God as our witness, we would never go hungry again! Oh, sorry...wrong storyline... Anyway! I moved into Joe's room, and he moved into mine. I am happy about this; I've been coveting this apartment since day 1! Here are some pictures of my third (and final!) apartment in Roma. I have included two of my bedroom, and one of the kitchen, the two most important rooms in the apartment, of course:

     

I think it's wonderful! And very charming, in that rustic Italian way. Everything is really ecelctic, which I love! AND, take a look at the ceiling in my bedroom (how fitting, given my recent infatuation with ceilings...):

Besides this apartment triumph, I had a grand coup-d'achat (I don't know if that's really a word in French, but I'm making it one...a grand coup of a purchase...). One and a half kilograms of parmigiano reggiano cheese! For just over 10 euros. I took this picture of it next to some scissors to try and give you some perspective on how large this wedge of cheese is:

All in all, despite my minor incendiary event in the morning, today was a triumphant day! And one of the best things about this apartment (for me and my blog) is a steady, free source of internet! What a luxury...

I just got around to posting the pictures from Par-ee! So take a look.

Je m'appelle Molly à Paris!

After an amazing weekend in Paris, this one's going to be mostly about food! Genevieve and I ate our way through Paris from a restaurant in the 15th to the Rue Mouffetard to a quiet authentic bistro in the 2nd.

My Parisienne culinary experience started even before that! While Genevieve and Cooper had class for three hours on Friday morning, I systematically stalked every croissant on the Rue de Passy. I got a croissant at one bakery, a sugar brioche at the next, and sat and read the papers on a bench. I couldn't even wait to take a picture before I tasted the brioche, you see...

Next I sat at a cafe for almost two hours (ooh la la!) and tried another croissant. Out of all of these, my favorite was definitely the brioche. The sugar on top actually looks like sea salt it's so big! So it's crunchy and then chewy, and even better when you get it hot like I did this time!

Next up was a picnic in front of the Eiffel Tower - very cliche, but fun nonetheless! Baguette, jambon cru (like prosciutto!) and camembert, with a splash of red wine to wash it down. Cooper and I snuggled.

Friday night we met up with some of Genevieve and Cooper's French friends. They brought along some friends from Quebec who were visiting, and trying to decipher their "French" was like trying to carry on a conversation with a Scot! Or worse. The French kids said they had a harder time understanding Quebecois than our English. But dinner was great, and pretty cheap. I got a "boucher au cacao" - I'm not sure exactly how to translate "boucher". It literally means "butcher", but it's a cut of beef, really tender. And it was in a sauce of its own juices and bitter cocao powder, served with these amazing, crispy roasted potatoes. Between the group of us (8 people frantically trying to understand and communicate with each other), we split 3 bottles of wine, and the tab still only came to 20 euros per person! And the setting was great - the restaurant itself was kind of dark, but the menu was still legible, and the walls were painted vibrant red with grafitti-like writing all over it. In the bathroom, appartently, there's usually a marker so you can write whatever comes to you, but unfortunately, there was no marker on Friday night, so my inner poet couldn't flow. Damn.

Saturday morning brough more culinary triumph! Genevieve and I made a simple breakfast of fried eggs, kiwi, toast, and coffee, but the eggs were fresher, the yolks more orange, and the coffee (a supermarket brand) was "BANGIN'", to quote Genevieve. For lunch (Mom and Dad, I know I already talked your ears off about this lunch, so bear with me...) we picnicked on the Rue Mouffetard and made the best sandwich I think I've ever had. A baguette that was so crusty it almost made the top of our mouths bleed (that's how you know it's good stuff), with "raisin de la maison" cheese (a soft cow milk cheese with mixed raisins, not very strong) and fresh rotisserie chicken thigh, with the skin, of course! To go along side, we got olives nicoises, and some of the potatoes that were roasting at the bottom of the rotisserie, some of which were crusty with little brown bits, all of which had sopped up the chicken juice and fat dripping from six feet above. For dessert, perfect little strawberries that would make Michael and Jason proud any day! 

The chicken and potatoes before we got to them:

After:

Strawberries!

Later down the road, Genevieve and I found this abandoned restaurant just BEGGING to be adopted! So we decided that with all of your help, we'll buy it and call the signature sandwich Le Mouffetard after our aforementioned incredible sandwich :-) Matt, you're maitre'd.

Can you handle any more tales of culinary excellence?! Hang in there! There's more! Saturday night, though we didn't think it was possible, upstaged the rest of our tastings. We ate at Le Comptoir de la Gastronomie, a small restaurant in the 2nd, far from Gen's apartment, but we figured it was worth the schlep, since one of Scott's friends is the chef there, and anything that Scott approves of must be good! When we arrived, we were a bit concerned because it was so quiet - not empty, just calm, which is different from any of the other restaurants around or any we'd been to in the previous 48 hours. We should have known then what we figured out later - this place was for serious foodies! Not raucous twenty-somethings! Our old souls fit in just fine though. Here's what we ordered:

Appetizer: Scallops St. Jacques in a brown sauce with julienned vegetables and good french bread to sop everything up with

Entrées: Genevieve got a piece of rockfish with a ratatouille-like vegetable mix under it. Neither of us had tried it before, but were pleasantly surprised. It was mild, perfectly cooked, of course, and altogether delicious. I got the filet mignon du porc with roasted potatoes and apples in a saffron-infused cider sauce. Mmmm.

Dessert: We both agreed that this was possibly the best dessert we'd ever tasted, and certainly the most interesting. It was three figs poached in spiced red wine (cinammon, nutmeg, lemon, and probably some other things we couldn't identify), with an almost crostillant and honey lavender ice cream. I wondered (aloud, I think...) why anyone makes pumpkin pie! This reminded me of the classic Thanksgiving dessert, but it's so much more interesting. Too bad I won't be stateside for T-day this year, but watch out for 2009...

(No pictures from this restaurant. I already felt a bit juvenile to be there, so I didn't want to bust out a camera...)

After all of this, you'd think we'd be sick of eating. But being the troopers we are, we rose the next morning, and after a quick cup of Gen's BANGIN' coffee, we headed off to brunch in Le Marais district with Cooper, where for 15 euros we got café au lait, jus d'orange, perfectly cooked double-boiled buttery scrambled eggs, a green salad, a chicken kebab, potatoes, fruit salad and fromage blanc. Life is good in Paris...

And Genevieve found her street! Rue de la Montagne St. Geneviève!

...and for those of you wondering about my apartment, I'm here! I took time off from settling in to update you on the more important things in my life (i.e. food, eating, my trip to Paris...), but I'll take and post pictures once I've got it into an acceptable order. 

Update on the move...

...that still hasn't happened.

Although we were assured that the current tenant of the apartment that Christina and I are scheduled to move into would be all cleared out by Tuesday night, allowing us to move in Wednesday afternoon, this has yet to happen. We waited anxiously this afternoon for a call from our director for six hours (!), only to find out (by calling him ourselves) that the move has been pushed back yet again until tomorrow. I'll believe that when it happens!

In the meanwhile, Fiorella, crazy landlady extraordinaire, has been calling me and my director nonstop to figure out what's going on. She caught on pretty quickly to the move when she saw my roommates clothes in Space-Saver (R) bags. Subtlety is not her forte. Tom refuses to tell her until the very moment we move so as to "time things right", and I, therefore, have been left to play dumb, all the while clandestinely packing my shirts and redistributing my pants to make it look like I haven't emptied 3/4 of my clothes from the armoire. Christina and Tom have it easy as far as I'm concerned! Tom doesn't live here, and when Fiorella starts to rant, Christina can't understand a word she's saying! Ah, the joys of speaking Italian...

Well, I hope this will all be sorted out before I leave for Paris. But then again, if it isn't, I would get to leave and avoid the scene that I'm sure will go down when we move, leaving my suitcases fully packed and ready to be transported by minions to my new domestic paradise...

More on this tomorrow. Or not. 

Hallelujah!

Finally! Someone else in Rome appreciates church ceilings as much as I do! And they have discovered a way to circumvent the sore neck syndrome that comes with craning your neck back a full 90 degrees to admire them. A mirror! What genius. Here I am looking into the mirror, along with a fellow ceiling admirer. 

As I mentioned earlier, there is a cat sanctuary in the ruins of some temples here in Rome, and they are cared for, vaccinated, cleaned, fed, etc. by a group of old English women. They run a daily tour at 4PM through the ruins to meet the cats, but I seem to always miss it! It will be at the top of my priority list when Genevieve and Cooper are here, however. What could be better?! Anyway, I had a very intense moment with this particular cat, that was staring at me from 20 ft. below - either he was immensely pleased that I was taking his picture, or extremely upset that I was invading his privacy.

Those were my great events of the weekend! I am going tonight to look at an apartment that my director wants Christina and I to move into. After a week-long hold up with the other one, he's found this newer, nicer one, which he says (although he always does) that we can move into tomorrow. More on this later... I hope the kitchen's nice!