Nativity

Yesterday marked the final day for the demonstration of the Nativity. All around Italy the scenes were erected – from simple mangers to elaborate, functioning towns – in honor of Jesus’ birth. In Assisi, the town where the nativity is said to have originated by the hands of St. Francis, we had the opportunity to view many mangers from around the world, displayed in the heart-felt church of Santa Maria degli Angeli.

Set in the valley below Assisi’s steep streets, the basilica was erected around the humble little chapel where St. Francis preached. We have found this structure to have much more soul than the grander, well-known church up in town with its frescoes and the saint’s remains. Here we encounter chapels filled with joyful music, groups of teens participating in Bible studies and Mass, and an air of lightness and spirituality. It feels warm and welcoming.

The manger scenes on display ranged from large, ceramic villages to simple, hand-knit figures. Those from around the world contained symbols and materials to denote that country’s culture. They were charming. In Rome, we toured the exhibit in Piazza del Popolo of 100 Presepi, again from around the world. Here we saw many whimsical representations, including a scene fancifully cut from CDs and DVDs and fashioned into stars, a stable, and the figures. Sounds strange, but it was adorable. Another was made from pencils, and there were several made by school children from various pasta shapes. I was glad to see that the tradition of macaroni-art is still alive and well.

But the best one by far was on display right here in Ascoli Piceno. In a little-known church on the edge of the centro storico we found the delightful presepe that comprised all of Israel and showed Egypt in the background. There were villages grouped in the background. In the fore, Bethlehem bustled with activity – the shepherds moved among their sheep (and even the sheep’s tails wagged); a blacksmith pounded iron; a woman baked bread while another mopped her floor (with the rag and brush action I’ve previously written about); someone drew water from a well and a man was grinding olives into oil while next door the mill turned to grind flour. In short, the entire town was busy going about their normal lives, while we had to search among all the activity for the cradle that held the babe. Much as we imagine the real event to have transpired.

Amazingly, though, they also had a lake with moving waves and ships with beacon lights sailing atop, and beyond were the barely-distinguishable outlines of the sphinxes and pyramids of Egypt. It was enchanting and captivating and elaborate.

These intricate displays obviously took much time to construct, but were only unveiled for display beginning on Christmas Eve. We missed out on many of them as we were gallivanting about the country with friends and family, so when we discovered yesterday to be the final showing, we high-tailed it around town to take in as many as we could. We became charmed by this annual tradition; we agreed walking from church to church was much more relaxing and culturally edifying than getting in our car to drive around neighborhoods looking at lights, as we’d done in Albuquerque. Granted, we missed our traditional luminarias, but this was a more than ample substitution. We loved the ingenuity, the simplicity of the scenes being played out in elaborate displays, and the chill air as we strolled. What a beautiful tradition.
copyright 2007 Valerie Schneider

Every Day's A Holiday

The holiday season is pretty much over. The ornaments are carefully packed away, the tree gone, and the New Year’s resolutions made. The usual grumblings about having eaten too much, drank too much, and spent too much have begun, and the festivities have given way to business as usual once again. That is, in America.

Here in Italy, the festivities continue. Today and tomorrow are holidays known as Epiphany or Befana. The piazza is packed while children await the appearance of La Befana, the quasi-witch-like peasant woman with a broom who gives treats or coal depending on the child’s behavior. She has long held the position occupied in the US by Santa Claus, who has only recently made his appearance into the Italian culture as Babbo Natale.

Epiphany is the last in a long string of celebrations that started with Immaculate Conception Day on December 8. Since then, we’ve had so many holidays involving celebrations with bells peeling, people gathering, and food to be enjoyed, that we’ve begun to lose count. For nigh a month it seems that every day is a holiday in Italy. There was La Vigilia, Christmas, and Santo Stefano, followed by San Silvestro and Capodanno. And now Befana. The party never ends!

These days are extended into long weekends, just to make it even more interesting. They call this “making a bridge” (fare un ponte) and so a holiday like today turns into a three or four day event.

The problem with all these holidays is that some are obscure to us and we don’t know until it is too late, because, of course, the fact of it being a festa means that most shops are closed. Including the food stores. You’ll remember my bare cupboards during the Immaculate Conception Day; this was repeated on New Year’s and the day after. We returned to Ascoli with visiting relatives on New Years’s Eve, too late to find any groceries in the centro open. We jumped in the car and headed to the centro commerciale (mall) and the ipermercato. We barely made it; they were crating up the produce and meats to store in the back as we tried to shop. “Uh, I need some lemons,” and the guy would rummage through the crates to dig some out. “Salsiccia?” “Tutto finito,” I was told. All sold out. “Try mixing some ground pork with seasonings instead.” (Which, by the way, worked well as the filling for my stuffed turkey breast dinner.) But within five minutes of our arrival the announcements were being made to bring the purchases to the registers as the store would be closing. San Silvestro is apparently an important saint to warrant such a holiday.

New Year’s eve lunch was a problem, too, as all the restaurants were closed in preparation for their grand cenone (big dinner parties) and didn’t want to bother with pranzo. The one restaurant with a door ajar was mobbed but we didn’t have much of a choice, so we wedged ourselves into the free table gratefully.

New Year’s Eve was spent in the Piazza Arringo with my uncle and aunt. Bryan was tucked into bed with a wretched cold and missed out on the mediocre band, the mayor doing the countdown, the fireworks (in the air overhead as well as right in the piazza), church bells clanging in 2007, and strangers handing us glasses of champagne. Ya gotta love Italia! The atmosphere was unlike any New Year’s I had celebrated and we loved it, even the very jetlagged relations.

And that brings us to Epiphany. I’m not sure what the traditional foods are for this big festa, but I at least knew it was coming and was able to make the rounds to procure provisions for the weekend. I went to the pasta all’uovo for the treasured ravioli, the butcher for spezzatino, the frutteria for veggies and fruit, and the bakery for bread. At least this holiday we won’t go hungry. I’m not sure, but I think this one marks the end of the season and soon they will begin the same routine with which we are familiar, of removing the decorations and getting back to work. But we had a heck of a lot of festive fun while it lasted.
copyright 2007 Valerie Schneider

Buon Natale

Buon Natale da Ascoli Piceno!

Wishing you a joyful Christmas and a New Year filled with blessings! Thanks for joining in on our adventures and traveling along with us through the blogs.

We're spending Christmas with our dear friends in Roma. Immediately after, we will be traveling to Spoleto to join up with visiting New Mexicans, Maria and Bob, for wine-imbibing and catching-up. For New Year's, my uncle, Roger, and his wife Kathy are flying in for a quick trip. We'll be awash with love and festivities!

Auguri tutti!

(The photo was taken by Bryan in Piazza Arringo. The Migliori shop decorations are cute, but with the cathedral and fountain reflected in the window, I thought this was such a great shot we made it one of Christmas cards this year.)


Buon Natale e buon anno!

Bring on the carbs!

Here in Italy, the pasta capital of the world, I am in heaven. An avowed maccheroni-muncher, I cannot fathom how anyone can survive on the Atkin’s diet. No carbs? No risotto? No spaghetti? No thank you! I once read that the average Italian eats sixty pounds of pasta each year. Obviously with such consumption, the Italian nation has perfected the stuff.

There are entire aisles at the grocery store, one devoted to packaged pasta and another one for the fresh, refrigerated noodles. The dried stuff with which we’re so familiar is called pasta asciutta (dried pasta) and is extremely convenient, not to mention inexpensive. For about 65 cents we can buy a pound of good quality penne rigate or linguini and keep it in the pantry, ready to go. Whole grains such as farro, barley, and mixed grains are readily available, too. The shapes are limited only by the space available in the particular store.

But I have come to develop a passion for fresh pasta. It’s readily available in pre-wrapped packages, but I prefer to go to the local shop. Yep, a shop that only makes and sells fresh noodles, and such a storefront is called “pasta all’uovo” or egg pasta. The one I’ve chosen to frequent is only about a four minute walk from our apartment. Each day the owner puts out a sign describing the fresh-made offerings. There are no-pre-cooking necessary lasagna sheets, manicotti leaves, spaghettini or fettuccini strands, as well as tiny squares called quadrucci all shining golden behind the glass. Then there are the real tempters…the filled pastas. Tortellini, agnolotti, and - my favorite at this particular pasta all’uovo - plump ravioli. The ricotta is so fresh it tastes like just-milked cream. Bryan loves those, but also approves heartily of the gnocchi which are the traditional, served-on-Thursday pasta, the little potato-based nobs tender and creamy. A couple of good handfuls of gnocchi, enough to serve two, costs about two euros. A small stack of manicotti sheets knocked me back a whopping 60 cents.

Owned by a couple of ladies who are passionate about pasta and ready to serve, they always know exactly how much I need of a particular type based on how many people will be dining. I mean, exactly. Nothing goes to waste and we’re “just-right” full at the end. I’m happy to have found this little store. I tell you, if Dr. Atkins had encountered this store and tasted this type of pasta, I think even he wouldn’t have given up carbs.

copyright 2006 Valerie Schneider

Twinkle Lights

For about a week we have watched as various workmen have been precariously perched upon ladders as they string lights overhead, draped across the streets and attached to the stone buildings on either side. Some are script-written greetings such as “Auguri” and “Buone Feste”. Others are simple dangling strands, still others have bulbs laid out to design gift packages and stars. Shop windows seemed to magically change overnight to boast twinkling lights, festoons of ribbons, and bright, glittery trees. The city appeared to be making preparations for the Christmas season, all’Italiana.

Yesterday we awoke to the bells of Duomo pealing like mad, seemingly louder and longer than normal so Bryan was dispatched to investigate what was amuck. He found curiously empty streets and piazzas, odd for a Friday morning, and discovered that it was a holiday of which we had previously not been aware, which was unfortunate because all the stores were closed and had I known about it being a holiday I could have prepared by shopping for the apparently grocery-less day. It was an oddly sedate morning for our normally lively town, as everyone was (presumably) in church for a mass to celebrate the feast of the Immaculate Conception. Who knew?

We went out to lunch – the restaurants being mercifully open since I had few provisions in the house - and strolled the practically-empty streets under a clear, blue sky enjoying an unseasonably warm day. After riposo we ventured out again to be met by the city ablaze with lights – the shop windows, the piazzas, the street decorations all lustrous with luminosity. According to our local source for such information, Gianluca our neighborhood barista, this particular feast day is the official kick-off for the holiday season. From now until Epiphany all the stores will be open later and on days they would normally close; people will be gathering more and making merry; the lights will be beaming forth brightly. He also informed us that the local shopkeepers pay for the festive illuminations and this invariably leads to annual arguments over who didn’t pay enough last year, who should pay more because their shop has more street frontage and who is a just scrooge-y or stingy.

Evergreen boughs are now bedecking doors and balconies. There is an artisan mercato set up, and a skating rink is being prepared in Piazza Arringo right smack in front of the Duomo. In short, our lovely medieval city is beautifully festive and it has really put us into the holiday mood, as well. We’ve put some packages into the mail for family and may go into the mountains to cut some evergreen boughs for ourselves tomorrow. We even received our first couple of Christmas cards from home. I started a bit of baking (what I can accomplish in my teensy kitchen). I’ve even made my list for Santa, asking him for my permesso di soggiorno. As we stroll beneath the canopy of twinkle lights we feel warm inside. We’re ready for Christmas in Italia!
copyright 2006 Valerie Schneider

(Fellow blogger Shelley in Rome has also written about the lights in her neighborhood of Trastevere.)

The Smallest in Italy

On our first visit to Ascoli Piceno this summer, when we came to be tortured in language school and endured searing temperatures, we took a trip up into the hills to cool down, to have a change of pace, and to see the countryside hereabouts. We happened into the hamlet of Castignano where we saw a sign for the narrowest street in Italy. How cute, we thought, and wandered off to find the little alleyway, snapping some photos grateful that we were slender enough to fit into the tiny space.

So imagine our surprise when we visited Ripatransone and saw a sign there pointing us to the vicolo piu stretto d’Italia. We followed the signs, examined the alley, agreed it was pretty dang narrow and took some more photos, wondering which street really was slimmer. Maybe we’d bring a tape measure, we laughed.

But Italy, the land of superlatives and diminutives, surprised us again when we happened upon yet another sign in yet another town with the same claim. This time it was Civitella del Tronto, which is only about a half-hour from Ascoli but is actually in Abruzzo. Civitella’s is pretty small in the entries but widens a bit through the actual street so we crossed it off as actually being The One that is The Narrowest. No matter, they are making the same claim and we have to wonder…just how many narrowest streets are there?

A quick search on the internet yielded a few more…Citta della Pieve and Castelnuovo Val di Cecina (new clue where that is) are also laying claim to the narrowest alley in the country. I assume they are all trying to turn their teeny streets into tourist bucks. Who knows which one is actually the winner? My money is on Ripatransone but without toting the tape measure I can’t say for certain.

I think I can safely claim the distinction, however, of possessing la cucina piu piccola d’Italia, the smallest kitchen in Italy. It is wider than an alley but no deeper than a broom closet. The limited space has definitely affected my cooking skills. I curse it each and every time I try to prepare more than a basic pasta dish. I am thinking of putting out a sign to see if it draws tourists. (How much would you pay to see the little cooking marvel?) Maybe we could hold a new version of the Iron Chef competition here. They wouldn’t be limited by ingredients but by the space. “The Challenge: Who can cook a full meal in this stall?” Mario Batali, wanna give it a try?

Follow Along

Several weeks back I made a mention of our trip to the southern part of the country to meet up with some cousins. I promised to tell more about this wonderful journey, and fully indended to put the details on the blog. It was such an amazing, really an indescribable day, but I chronicled the trip in my most recent article for my monthly column on Slow Travel. If you have not done so already, hop on over to give it a read!