You know how after a long day where you've done so much all you want to do is go to sleep? That's where I a right now. It's just midnight here in Tuscany and I am exhausted. I spent five hours exploring Firenze aka Florecene (and I didn't even go into any museums!) and then attended an American and Italian dinner party. I think I'll write about the dinner party now and about Firenze tomorrow, because that's what I feel like doing and gosh darnitt it's my blog and my vacation.
Cindy is the woman my dad is renting the apartment from in Barberino Val d'Elsa. She is an American ex-Patriot who married an Italian and now lives in Firenze, after moving there from living in this very apartment in Barberino. They have two sons who are my age so it wasn't just me and seven people twice my age. Andrea (the older son) and I even exchanged facebook information. Cindy is a cook! She teaches cooking classes in Italy, so needless to say our dinner at her Firenze penthouse was quite delicioso. We started with fresh tuna ceviche and chicken liver pate toasts (two different kinds, not together, that would be interesting). Then we had home made cheese ravioli in a pommodorro sauce with lots of fresh garlic. After that we enjoyed pork wellington, sautteed eggplant and zucchini, porccini mushrooms, and a green salad with arugula, radicchio, and corn. For dessert we had fresh fruit, a seasonal grape pastry (with San Giovese grapes and LOTS of seeds), and biscotti. Food heaven.
Both Cindy and her friend Jane are American born girls who came to Italy and fell in love with debonaire Italaians and subsequently moved here, got married, and had children. Supposedly, there is an entire “American girl who marries Italian man” community in Firenze and they all know each other and actually have meetings and get togethers, like a book club.
All in all it was a fun dinner party with great food, lively conversation, and an interesting mix tape filled with 70's and 80's American pop songs. I admired these American women for coming to a foreign country on vacation and then essentially never leaving. I've visited many places that I felt I could never leave, but I think that may hae been the “I don't want to go home” string pulling on my heart. I don't think I could ever move anywhere too foreign, Canada maybe, but not Europe, no matter how much I love it.
Tomorrow I will write all about my five hour exploration of Firenze.