Torre del Tartufo, Part 2, Days 6, 7, and 8

Day 6

The rest of the group went to Anghiari to an olive oil mill. Part of me wanted to go, but an even bigger part of me needed to be very still and read a book. I know I'll be in Italy again, so I bailed and pretended that I owned the villa again (Lars, Pippa, and Barbara were all at Casa Ombuto, closing it down for the season). The gardener wasn't in, so there were no cushions on the loungers, but I managed to read while I ate lunch (reheated saltimbocca and minestrone -- not easy when there's no microwave) at the little side table in the cantina, and then I took advantage of both caves. I love those caves. I took regular breaks to monitor the number of leaves getting blown into the pool and the level of blue in the sky.

Barbara put me in charge of letting in the sommelier whom she asked to come and do a wine tasting for us. We thought it was going to be 20 Euro/person, but it turned out to be 20 Euro/person/hour PLUS the cost of the wine we tasted. And nobody cared because the sommelier was a gentleman by the name of Luca Martini, and in early October, he was named the #1 sommelier in all of Italy. IN ALL OF ITALY. Plus, he's only 27, so he's the youngest #1 sommelier ever named in Italy (it's an annual competition).

We tasted some AMAZING wines, and he taught me more about swirling and sniffing and tasting than I'd ever learned previously. And of course, I got suckered into buying some. Glenn was going to cook us all dinner (free day, so leftovers, or cook for yourself), but the markets weren't open when he went looking for provisions. Luca mentioned that his family had a restaurant in Arezzo, so I asked him if we could eat there. It was one of the best decisions I've ever made.

The restaurant is called Osteria da Giovanna, and the menu is not available in English. All the other restaurant patrons were Italian, and they were more than a little bit irritated by the loud crowd of English-speakers in the corner. We had mixed bruschetta, with tomatos, beans, and something else that I am so sad I can't remember. (I should have written this immediately upon arriving back at the villa, but I was too tired and had had too much wine.) I had tagliatelle with butter and sage sauce; I should have asked for the truffle -- it was only 2 Euro more, but I didn't know it was available. Then Mike and I split an enormous t-bone. RIDICULOUS.

For each course, we asked Luca to select a wine around 30 Euro for us to share. He picked 3, and I ended up buying two of them. Then, after dinner, he brought a bottle of 1927 Tio Pepe sherry -- AMAZING.

Luca has an assistant, Lorenzo, who is 23. Lorenzo is cute and adorable, but he speaks very little English (he understands more than he lets on). When we found out he was 23, we tried to set him up with Oana, but the message wasn't getting through. One of the other waiters at the restaurant who was also waiting on us translated a bit, but he still didn't understand, so I finally asked if he had a girlfriend. He turned bright red, started laughing, and RAN. He didn't come back to the table or even look at us for the rest of the night. We asked Luca to explain that it wasn't that any of us were after his young bones, that we were just trying to matchmake, but I don't think it helped.

At one point later in the evening (we were there for THREE HOURS, but it didn't feel like it), Luca's mother came out (we met his dad when he showed Mike and me our raw steak and his grandmother a little later), and she asked him what he wanted for dinner. He said, "Steak, broccoli, and spinach." She said, "You're having spaghetti with garlic and olive oil." All of this was in Italian, but even the people who didn't understand a single word of Italian understood what she said. It was really funny.

I can't remember when I've had so much fun at dinner and been so relaxed. To top it all off, Glenn (I just found out that's how he spells his name) and Linda PAID FOR ALL OF OUR DINNERS. He said that they enjoyed our company so much and had so much fun that he was more than happy to do it.

Several of us bought some wine, including Clare. I missed this part, but the report from the others is that when Clare tried to pay for her wine with her AmEx card, Luca said, "I don't like American Express, but I like American women [wink, wink]." Did I mention that he's handsome and charming? The report is also that Clare blushed. :)

We finally got home at midnight, and I had the spins when I got to my room. I forced down 3/4 of a liter of sparkling water and told myself that I hadn't had that much to drink -- 2 glasses total at the tasting, 3 glasses at dinner, and the Tio Pepe sherry afterward. That worked, but it was a close call.

I think this was also the night that my vacation idiocy reared its ugly head. Last year, I woke up in the middle of the night the first night thinking that I had gone deaf because it was so quiet. I clapped my hands to test my ridiculous theory (in my defense, I was disoriented and changing time zones). This year, I left the shutters on the window facing my bed open, and I woke up in the middle of the night because it seemed bright in the room. I saw four lights in the window and seriously thought, "UFO?" Then I put on my glasses and saw that it was the moon. I had a good laugh, closed the shutters, and went back to sleep.

Day 7

Everyone was dragging on Saturday, but we all got up early -- Glenn, Linda, Elena, Kristen, Clare, and I wanted to check out the monthly antiques market in Arezzo, and Carolyn and Mike were going to Anghiari to see if the crazy man who runs the olive oil mill had turned the single basket of olives (half unripe) that Clare and Carolyn picked from the trees on the villa estate into oil.

Here are a couple of examples of what irked me about Elena. Glenn and Linda rented a car, and Elena and I were riding to Arezzo with them. Glenn pulled the car around, and Elena immediately got in the front seat. When I pointed out that perhaps Linda would want to sit in the front seat, Elena said, "I'm NOT sitting in the back seat. My knees will be up to my chin because I'm tall." When Linda got in the back with me, Elena then asked, "Is it ok if I sit up here? There's not enough leg room for me in the back," and Linda told her it was no problem. In Catherineland, we ask before we make unilateral decisions like that.

Then on the half hour ride to Arezzo, Elena mentioned 4 times that she needed cash. The first time, Linda and I also said that we needed cash. The rest of the time, I tried to ignore her. Then when we got to the center of town, she asked at every intersection, "You guys, do you see an ATM? Is that an ATM? Where are the ATMs?" After we parked the car and were walking the block to the beginning of the street market, she asked twice if we saw an ATM. When we got there, I ditched them all. I was a little hungover and ready to throttle her, so I wandered by myself, and sure enough, because Arezzo is a major Italian city with 99,000 citizens, I managed to find and ATM within 10 minutes of walking into the market.

After a couple of hours, I wandered into the main shopping area and ran into Clare and Kristen, who had also ditched them. Turned out I wasn't the only one whose will to live Elena was sucking. Clare pointed out that she's harmless, but none of us were in the mood to deal -- too much wine and not enough sleep. They pointed me in the direction of the antiques market, told me that Glenn, Linda, and Elena were planning to meet me at the car at 12:30, and we split.

It turns out that antiques markets in Italy are like the ones in the US -- mostly stuff you'd find in someone's grandmother's attic. Unfortunately, I managed to find a leather goods store and bought myself a new purse. It's gorgeous -- gorgeous enough that when I showed it to everyone after dinner, Kristen decided to hit the store on the way to the train station the next morning to get it in black (mine is red).

Lunch was handmade pasta and a red sauce with sausage on the side. Delicious. There was just enough time for a 1-hour nap, and then we all dressed up like Franco -- we used tea towels for bandanas, and we used oleander for the goatee. (We used oleander because one night, Franco sent Elena and Mike out for a bay leaf. He pointed them in the general direction, but there were 3 bushes clustered together: one was a bay tree, the other two were oleander. Mike and Elena came back with 4 oleander leaves and threw them into the wild boar stew. Franco checked the stew a few minutes later, looked surprised, and then started laughing. He fished them out and made Mike and Elena accompany him to the bay tree. Kristen and I freaked out -- oleander is poisonous! But we ate the stew on Wednesday night and felt no ill effects, so no harm no foul.)

Pippa saw what we were doing and started laughing. We waited to go to class a few minutes late. Pippa rushed out, saying "I'm going to give him shit for starting his class late." When we came in, he started cracking up. We posed for several photos (I forgot my camera!), which I think we'll see on Facebook. I think he was really pleased, and the oleander was especially funny.

We dragged our asses through the cooking lesson, but because we were the last class, there wasn't that much to do, so we got done early. Franco asked us if we'd be willing to help out the chef coming in to cook for the 21 staff and Lars and Pippa with some of the prep, which we enthusiastically agreed to. Mike was given the assignment of trimming the lamb into French cut, but when I looked up, Glenn was doing it. I asked him, jokingly, what was up with that, and he claimed that Glenn volunteered (Glenn confirmed this later). Because we were all besties by then, I said, "Suuuuure, he did, Tom Sawyer!" Carolyn busted out laughing -- she said not only did I call him out on shirking, but that it was a double cut because I did it in a literary way.

After all the prep was done, we hung out in the kitchen a little longer. Franco came across the map that Simone (part of the breakfast staff, he used to be a jeweler in Arezzo, which is famous for gold jewelry) lent us, and asked, outraged, "WHO ATE AT MCDONALD'S?" He didn't realize it was a map and only saw the golden arches. I accused Mike of eating at McDonald's while in Anghiari, and I got a real death glare. At first I was taken aback, and then I started laughing because Mike is such a mild-mannered, funny, fun man, that to have earned a death glare is really something. Carolyn was really impressed, as was everyone else. Mike admitted that it was the accusation of doing something as horrible as eating in McDonald's while in ITALY in combination with the literary insult that caused the death glare. He tried to recreate it later, unsuccesfully. We were talking about it at dinner, and I said, "You pick, pick, pick at everyone else, so I picked, picked, picked back, and BAMMO -- death glare!" I think that Carolyn might adopt me.

While we were hanging out in the kitchen, Franco brought out the big book where you're supposed to write a few words about the experience. Kristen and Elena were done a little early, so Kristen sat down with the book and a pen, and she started to cry. I really love that girl -- she's a talker, and she loves being in the limelight, and every emotion she has is written on her face. She was so sad to be leaving the school and everyone that she wept. It was really sweet. I kept telling her she could always come back, but she said it wouldn't be the same, and she's right. I was really lucky that my second time was with such a great group of people. I miss them a lot.

Lars, Pippa, Barbara, and Nelia joined us for dinner, and someone asked Pippa the story of how she and Lars bought Casa Ombuto and Torre del Tartufo. Pippa used to be director of marketing for Revlon in Europe. She and Lars stumbled on a hair accessory that was created by a hairdresser in Europe -- basically a double corkscrew that holds a French twist or bun in place, called a Hair Scroo (Barbara busted some out, and Clare, Kristen, and I each got a set -- a nice treat because they WORK). They got the exclusive distribution rights for Europe, and Pippa said that they used every penny they had, including the change in their pockets, and bought a shipping container full of them to sell. And then she and Lars hustled to sell it, and it was a huge success. Pippa said that she had the idea for the cooking school because she loves cooking classes; she happened to take one that she especially loved, and she thought, "Wouldn't it be great if this were in Italy, and included lodging, and was a week long?" And they bought and renovated Casa Ombuto, then Torre del Tartufo. Lars is trying to talk her into a third house, which we were all in favor of -- the school is getting so popular, we're worried about being able to go back.

Between courses at dinner, we read limericks that Mike had written about the school and our experiences. They were hilarious, and Franco and Oana loved them. Barbara collected the ones that were fit to print (there was one that was perhaps a little insulting to Madthu) and said that she would save them and post them for us.

After dinner, the usual digestifs came out, and Pippa put on her dance mix that she wanted to test with us before she used it on the staff. We danced until 1am, and I'm ashamed to say that I taught 2 American ladies, 1 Dutch lady, 1 Dutch gentleman, and 2 South African ladies how to do the Macarena. It's Pippa's fault for putting that song on her mix. I dubbed her DJ Pippa Strippa P (after one of the limericks, when Mike said it was hard to find a rhyme for Pippa, Pippa said, "STRIPPA!). From 1-1:30, we drank water and chatted. Lars and Pippa are wonderful, and it shows in every detail of the school. We all promised to write good reviews on Trip Adviser, which I've done (find the one from RedIsBest).

Off to bed, and unfortunately, I forgot that the US fell back that night, because I was using the alarm on my BBerry.

Day 8
That meant that I had less time to pack than I intended and missed out on a little bit of relaxation time with everyone, but I did get to say goodbye. So sad.

One last Elena story. Apparently her taxi arrived at 8 instead of 10. I told her that, because it was funny, and her immediate response was to say defiantly, "I'm not leaving now." I told her she didn't have to leave now, just that her taxi was there. "I'm not ready. Why would he come so early? I didn't ask for him to come that early." I told her that it was just an FYI, and that nobody was going to make her leave before 10. I wanted to pull her hair.

My taxi dropped me at the station in plenty of time for my train to Florence. Unfortunately, I forgot to validate my ticket, and the conductor was not pleased. I thought I was going to have to pay a penalty of 50 Euro, but it was only 5. Thank goodness.

Florence to Pisa, Pisa to the Pisa airport, stood in line FOREVER. I did get to spend a little more time with Carolyn and Mike because they were flying from Pisa as well. Mike bought a book called, "Too Much Tuscan Sun." I said, "More like too much Tuscan wine," and apparently, that's the title of the book's sequel. I'm going to try to find both.

I slept all the way from Pisa to Gatwick, and I think I was one of those plane sleepers who invades the space of the person sitting next to her. Gatwick to Victoria, Victoria to St. John's Wood, and then Mediterranean for dinner with Alex and Morgan, Alex's roomate's friend.

Despite all the fun, I was happy to go home on Monday. I'm in China now, but that's another posting, because it's two hours later than I wanted to go to bed! I lost 30 minutes to the massage chair in my room....

Torre del Tartufo, Part 2, Day 5

So tired. I got up early to read and write in the silence, and it was wonderful, but then I fell asleep and missed the departure of the Indian contingent. Bummer.

Lunch was the white duck ragout with homemade pasta with farmer cake for dessert. Coffee break was sweet bread with blueberries baked in (Franco said also to use wine grapes). Dinner was stuffed tomato, cavatelli with broccoli rabe and tomato, turkey scallopine with squash and chestnuts, and tortelli with apples and balsamic vinegar ice cream.

Lars, Pippa, and Nelia arrived today. I think Pippa is the kite, and Lars is the kiteholder. Wonderful people.

Caught another buzzsaw bug with hairspray. I'm near the end of the can, and I have two more nights to go. I hope I have enough. I hope more that the buzzsaw bugs quit flying into my room.

Torre del Tartufo, Part 2, Day 4

Exhausting day. We left at 9:30 for the excursion day, which involved a trip back to the same ceramics factory (spent too much money) as last year, then to the same cheese farm as last year, then to a winery, and then to a textile mill. Luckily, I was overwhelmed at the textile mill and did not buy anything.

I haven't gotten as much mental alone time on this trip as I did the last one -- a bigger group makes a huge difference. Last year, there were only 7 of us, and the husbands went out of their way to shield me from distraction. This trip, with 12, it seems like there's a lot less free time to read. I'm enjoying this group a lot, I don't mean to make it sound like I'm not having a fabulous time, but there are a lot of extraverts in this group, which means that there's less silent time to think.

There's also an older lady on this trip who is sucking my will to live, and I haven't been able to pinpoint why, but I think it's because, like Heather last year, she only talks about herself. The woman who sells advertising for Google also talks a lot about herself, but the way she does it is mostly fun. The older lady asks questions that you can tell she thinks are really intelligent, but in truth, are kind of silly. It's a little bit like she heard someone else ask the same question and sound smart, so she plonks it into a conversation with no thought for context. I think Turner would say that she has no concept of nuance, and maybe that's what it is. She's interesting to watch, and she's very accomplished, which makes it even more interesting. Because I'm not a nice person, it never makes the annoying go away completely.

It's so silent in my room, I can feel my ears straining to hear something, anything, when I stop typing. The occasional bug hitting the light puts my senses on high alert, which is funny. Silence is so underrated; I wish I had a silent spot to retreat to in Houston. Moving to Plano with Mom and Dad will make that easier -- there's very little noise in the suburbs on a cul de sac.

Today, we had lunch at Casa Miranda, the cheese farm in Casentino: vegetable soup, but blended together so it was smooth and slightly thick; a variety of cold cuts; 4 different kinds of cheese that they make there; and the sweetest, juiciest pear that was perfectly ripe and melted in the mouth. Dinner was the minestrone that I chopped and chopped and chopped vegetables for, as well as some wild boar stew, focaccia, and chocolate tart, which I was too full to eat.

I think I'm going to sleep with the shutters open and see what happens. It's just as easy for me to sleep in the sunshine as the dark, but maybe I'll have a chance to get up early and enjoy the silence.

Torre del Tartufo, Part 2, Day 3

To be clear, a week here is not completely relaxing. I have killed several bugs with my bare hands (that's sort of a lie since I had big wads of tp or a shoe in the aforementioned bare hands), and the cooking lessons are INTENSE. It's 4+ hours of chopping and mixing and sauteeing, and my arms are sore. I'm about to treat myself to 3 Advil.

At the same time, the company on this trip has been lovely, and being a return guest means that none of the cooking lessons stress me out like they do first-timers. The weather has been perfect -- highs in the 70s and 80s in the sunshine, and cold at night to make sleep easier. It's been sunny and clear, so I've been spoiled by the amazing views of Tuscany, the breathtaking sunsets, and the night sky filled with stars that I never get to see in the city and does so much to put life in perspective.

Today, we made a ton of stuff. Madthu and I chopped endless vegetables to make spinach filling for ravioli and to make minestrone. If you've ever had Campbell's vegetable soup in the classic can, you'll know how tiny we had to chop the following: potatoes, carrots, onion, black cabbage (only available in Tuscany, and only after the first frost), swiss chard, artichokes, zucchini, broccoli, green beans, squash, celery, and leeks. Plus some tomato. And not just one of each -- several.

Glen deboned and chopped 2 ducks for our white duck ragout. The white refers to the ragout (no tomato) rather than the duck.

The starter team made parmesan baskets (my Waterloo), artichoke salad, focaccia bread, and taralli, which is like breadsticks or pretzels.

The dessert team made several desserts: ricotta cheese pie with berry sauce, capresi style cake, and farmer cake. The mains team made saltimbocca, gratinated fennel, wild boar stew, and polenta.

What we actually ate was individual pizzas, baked in the pizza oven (the best), and the pear and chocolate tart. For the coffee break (2 hours into the cooking lesson), we had the focaccia. And for dinner, we had artichoke salad, spinach ravioli, saltimbocca with gratinated fennel, and the ricotta pie. I only managed one bite of the ricotta pie. I snuck off early from digestives to write and read; we leave at 9am tomorrow for the excursion day.

The time is flying by, and I can't decide if I want to take the bus to Cortona on Friday, or hang out here and relax. I have some time to decide, so I'm not worried, but the idea of trying out my fledgling Italian where I'm sure they won't understand me is tempting. A domani!

Torre del Tartufo, Part 2, Day 2

After indiscriminately drinking too much wine and sampling too many liqueurs, I was happy to fall into my bed last night. Sadly, I woke up at 3am to Kelly Clarkson singing that her life would suck without me -- my US cell phone somehow turned itself on, and not only did it think it was 7am, but it also thinks it's October 13. I didn't realize how dependent it is on access to a cell network to know what day it is.

I managed to fall back asleep, make it to breakfast, and start reading Jennifer Weiner's new novel. It's really good, of course, and her novels always have an undercurrent of melancholy that I find strangely soothing. I bailed out of after-dinner liqueurs a little early to try to finish it.

My Flip ran out of battery, and I opened it up to discover that it runs on rechargeable batteries. I have no recollection of where the charging cable is. Franco agreed to buy me some batteries at the market, which is extremely generous since I will mostly be filming him! I think we're doing pasta tomorrow, and if we are, I want to make sure I film him talking about the "Fight Club" rule for pasta machines.

For lunch today, we had salad, pasta bolognese, and panna cotta with chocolate sauce. We didn't make much progress on the panna cotta because we were all so full. Dinner was pecorino flan with a creamed leek sauce, eggplant spaghetti, chicken stuffed with pecorino and truffle paste on buttered green beans, and tiramisu.

We had some newcomers join us today; they're doing the 3-day course, and so will only stay until Thursday. They are Mindi (short for Mohinder), his sister-in-law Madthu, her friend Abu (who is India's top designer and a favorite of English celebrities) (ETA that Madthu is married to Abu's business partner, Sandeep, who is Mindi's brother, but we never established whether Abu and Sandeep are also life partners, which added a soupcon of excitement), and Abu's assistant, Lubna. They seem very nice, but they are also clearly all extremely wealthy and out of their element. I wonder what their perception of Torre del Tartufo is. I love it here, but it's not luxurious like the Ritz-Carlton, and Franco definitely puts us to work during the cooking class. It will be very interesting to see reactions.

I killed 6 bugs with my bare hands today, and one with my shoe. I've been leaving the ladybugs alone, but there are some larger, sinister-looking red beetles that I have been dispatching with large wads of toilet paper. I also hit something long and scary with my shoe against the wall. And I brought down some gray, triangular, flying something that sounded like a buzzsaw. I truly thought maybe the gardener was cutting wood for the hot tub, and then I realized I am not that lucky. I steeled myself, then attacked. First I sprayed it with some hairspray, and when it fell to my bed (well-played, scary bug), I got it with a larger-than-normal wad of toilet paper. I'm not sure how they've all gotten in here, but for some reason, I'm not as stressed about it as I think I would be at home.

Nothing deep tonight. Am still so happy to be here and relaxing. I have been ignoring e-mail except to delete some of the automated stuff I get from the WSJ, and it's been so great not to have jet lag.

The liqueurs make my wrists hurt, so I'm going to finish the Jennifer Weiner and drink some acqua frizzante. Amo Italia.

Torre del Tartufo, Part 2, Day 1

Not so good Pret a Manger sandwich at Gatwick. Ketchup is never a good idea. Two children took turns screaming on the flight -- one was in the row directly behind me, kicking my seat back with gusto, the other two rows ahead. I understood after that flight how some parents lose their minds and do horrible things. The dad of the family behind me looked like he was ready to desert, and the mom wasn't much happier.

After practicing, "Vorrei un biglietto di andato e ritorno per Arezzo per favore" for two weeks, once I landed in Pisa, I got Euro from a bancomat (ATM), and then asked the nice lady at the bigliaterria, "Can I get a ticket to Arezzo? Round trip?" In English. Sigh.

I took the train from the airport to the central station, then from the Pisa central station to Florence, then to Arezzo, and I'm kind of proud to say that I figured it out with my Berlitz phrase books. God bless Berlitz. I did manage to say, "Vorrei andare a Torre del Tartufo, per favore" to my taxi driver in Arezzo ("I'd like to go to Torre del Tartufo, please") fairly successfully.

I forgot about the last bit of the journey to Torre del Tartufo -- it's a glorified, partially-paved hiking trail, and I tried to keep the taxi on the path with my thigh muscles (they're there, buried under the fat). I got a glimpse of the bridge that Sarah took a chunk out of last year, and then got a reminder of just how far you have to go to get here. It's heaven, and it feels like home.

Barbara Helmer, the manager gave me a HUGE hug upon arrival, and took me to see Franco and Simonetta (Oana arrives Tuesday). Fellow students are Glen and Linda, from Vancouver, who recently sold their interest in their trucking business, and are spending a year traveling the world; Michael and Carolyn, who are an opthalmologist and orthopedic surgeon, respectively, from Belfast (they don't know Sarah); Kristin, from SF, and Claire, from NYC, who have been friends since college -- Kristin does ad sales for Google, and Claire works for Morgan Lewis in NYC; and Elena, who is from Santa Barbara. Seems like a great group, and I'm looking forward to the week.

Had too much to drink before, during, and after dinner, but did want to capture as much as possible. Dana stayed in the same room I'm staying in, and she left me a very sweet note and gift -- classic Dana Greatman. Seems like she had a fabulous time, which makes me so happy. Italy soothes the soul, or at least soothes my soul, and I'm relieved that she had a similar experience.

It struck me on the train that if I had all the money in the world, I'd spend it becoming fluent in Korean, Italian, German, and Mandarin. For reals. I need to find a way to make that happen, but in the meantime, I'm so happy to be ensconced in my room in the tower. Pictures and video coming soon. Buona notte!

Travel Update

9/14-9/21: San Francisco

9/21-9/23: Seattle

9/23-9/25: Houston

9/25-9/28: DC

9/30-10/3: Los Angeles

10/3-10/6: Houston

10/6-10/8: Atlanta

10/8-10/9: San Francisco

10/9-10/12: Houston

10/12-10/25: London

10/25-11/1: ITALY

11/1-11/2: London

11/2-11/6: Houston

11/6-11/14 (est): China

September 11

I have to confess that while I did remember the significance of September 11 on Friday, I didn't do much beyond taking a minute to remember where I was when I heard the news and what I did in the surreal aftermath. After that minute, I updated Facebook, did my calls, got my work done, returned e-mails, and breathed a sigh of relief when 4:30pm rolled around (5:30pm on the east coast, so a full day was worked). But that evening when I parked myself on the couch, the History Channel was running a show that consisted of interviews with people who took photographs of that day, both professional and amateur photographers. Something made me not turn the channel, and I'm glad. Interspersed among the interviews were both still and moving footage of one tower smoking and burning, then the plane hitting the second tower, and then the towers going down. There were photographs of people going single-file down the narrow emergency staircases and firemen walking up. There were photographs of every watercraft in the area heading to the port to carry as many people as possible to New Jersey. There were photographs of people in all different shapes and sizes and colors all looking up with identical looks of horror and disbelief. There were pictures of people covered in ash, wounded, and sobbing. Running for cover, holding hands with strangers, holding stripped off pieces of clothing to their noses and mouths, trying to breathe. And maybe now enough time has passed, but they actually showed video of the people who jumped out of the towers. I don't want to get into a religious argument with anyone, but I have to believe that God had mercy on people who chose what they thought was a better death. I know that the jumpers are controversial, and as the Esquire article noted, they're something that everyone seems implicitly to have decided that it's best to forget and gloss over. Here's why I think it's important that the jumpers be included in the record. Untold thousands of people died that day. You can read many of their names at History.com. Every single one of those people mattered to someone, was loved by someone. But because of the sheer number of people lost that day, it's somehow easier to forget or at least not remember in bright colors and sharp details, especially for someone like me who was so fortunate not to have lost someone I knew. The jumpers were individual humans who died one at a time, and the shock of seeing even one of them heading for death makes the loss of thousands comprehensible and concrete and impossible to compartmentalize and put away. I'm ashamed to say how easy it was just 8 years later to think, "Thousands of people died that day," make a sad face, and then go on to figure out where to have dinner later. I promise I'll be a better witness from now on.

Pandora

I know a primary reason that people, including me, love Pandora is because it helps us discover new artists that make music really similar to the music we already love.

Except that I created a Mary Chapin Carpenter channel today, and I haven't heard a song from anyone I didn't already know.  It seems to be on a rotating mix of the Dixie Chicks and Alison Krauss.  I like everything I'm hearing, but what's up with that, Pandora?

-- Sent from my Palm Pre

The Uptown Manhattan, Part 2: THE RECIPE

See? I do keep my promises... eventually. Here's the recipe to the YUMMIEST COCKTAIL EVER. AND it will knock you on your butt. Perfect for right after a grueling day of work, especially in combination with popcorn that's been doused with truffle oil.

UPTOWN MANHATTAN
2 oz Maker's Mark
3/4 oz Amaro Nonino
2 dashes orange bitters
1/4 oz cherry brandy

Combine, stir, strain. Garnish with brandied cherries and flamed orange.

I can only drink 2 of these, 3 if it's an especially long night and I've been good about hydrating.

Oh, Right -- the Travel Update

I've been to a lot of places but kept them secret from the blog because then I would have to kill it. Not really -- I think we all know that it's because I've been too lazy or disengaged to write here. But look! Here's the update!

July 2-10: DC
July 12-21: DC
July 21-23: Chicago
July 23-26: DC
October 25-November 1: ITALY, BABY!!!

Italian Cooking School, Finally

I've been meaning to write this for months, but of course, haven't. A friend asked me to write a note to her mother to get her to go, and I ended up with something that could also be used as a blog entry. Also, since I just mailed off my check to go again at the end of October (YAY!), it seemed like I should get this off my to-do list as soon as possible.

Last year when I went, I was completely stressed out from work and had reached the point of burnout. Both my brain and my body felt completely bruised when I got on the plane to Italy, less than 12 hours after getting back from a work trip to DC.

Because I traveled by myself and booked a single, my expectations were fairly low. A lot of times, places will put the single travelers off into a cramped corner. At Torre del Tartufo (and I suspect also at Casa Ombuto), this wasn’t the case. There were 7 of us in my class – a single woman from Ireland, a single woman from NYC, and two couples who’d been friends since college celebrating a 60th birthday for one of the wives. I think the temptation at most places would be to cram the single girls into one suite of rooms to save on the cleaning, but Sarah, Heather, and I each got an entire apartment to ourselves. If you go to the website, you can see pictures of the room I stayed in (Origano). The couples were up in the Tower, where the views are breathtaking (that’s where they’re putting me when I go back this fall).

Every detail is thought of – it’s not luxurious like the Ritz Carlton, but it’s pretty and cozy and spotless and amazingly comfortable. When you come in, there’s a little welcome gift waiting for you. There are no phones or televisions or clocks in any of the rooms because they want you to relax. (The school manager told me there’s only one alarm clock, so if multiple people need to get up early, the person who gets up earliest gets it first, then resets the clock and tiptoes into the next person’s room, and so on. Awesome.) This place has only two goals: for you to feel at home and for you never to feel hungry (that’s my take on it anyway). And halfway up a big hill in Tuscany on a truffle farm, so it’s really quiet. The first night, I woke up in the middle of the night and honestly though I’d gone deaf for a few seconds before I shook off enough of my disorientation to clap my hands (yes, I know how ridiculous that is -- I was jet lagged and disoriented! It was the middle of the night!!). It’s THAT quiet.

There’s only one computer, and it only has dial-up access, which the school manager asks that you not use for too long, as the school only has the one phone line. I was able to get BlackBerry coverage, but only down by the pool, and who wants to use their BlackBerry at the pool on vacation??? I did check my BlackBerry but mostly just to post on Facebook what a good time I was having. :)

Sarah, Heather, Diane, Helen, and I took the cooking class, while Ira and Marty (the husbands) smoked cigars, drank wine, and sat in the pool. We had four days of cooking class, all in English (apparently, they're always in English), and we cooked a LOT. When I first saw the itinerary for the week, I thought four cooking classes was too few, but by the fourth one, I was exhausted! We made our own lunches, afternoon snacks, dinners for every day that were there. Almost all of the herbs we used came from the spectacular gardens. I even had to snip bay leaves from an actual tree!! (The chef had to show me which one it was.)

On the field trip day, we ate lunch made by an Italian grandmother at a little farmhouse where they make cheese, and then we had dinner at one of the best seafood restaurants in Tuscany. In addition to the cheese farm, we also visited an ancient, walled city and a ceramics factory, where I picked up a couple of lovely items for the dinner parties I have not yet thrown.

There’s also a day that’s completely free – no cooking classes and no planned activities. Franco, the chef, purposefully has us make too much food on the other days so that there are leftovers to eat on the free day if you decide not to go sightseeing. There’s also a fully stocked refrigerator if you’d prefer to make something else. I decided not to go sightseeing, even though I had options. The couples invited me to go to Florence with them, and Sarah invited me to go to Cortona (where they filmed “Under the Tuscan Sun”) with her and Heather, but I was enjoying the solitude, and I had 6 books to read (all of which I finished). Also, I got to pretend that I owned the place by being there by myself. It was heavenly.

We asked Barbara, the manager, whether it was common that everyone got along as great as we all did, and she said yes. She also said, “Why wouldn’t you get along? You all already had two things in common when you got here: you chose Italy, and you chose cooking.” You’ll meet people from all over the world. We happened to have people mostly from the US, but Barbara said that they get people from as far away as Australia and easily from all over Europe.

It’s really the best vacation I’ve ever been on, even better than taking the Queen Mary 2 across the Atlantic. If you love Italy and cooking, you HAVE TO GO. If you need some solitude and silence to work through the tangle of partially formed thoughts in your head, and you have a stack of books you want to get through, it's perfect. (Diane and Helen coaxed me away from my books and into a conversation, but Marty and Ira told me not to feel pressured to join them – they totally understood my desire to rest my brain and just read.)

I can't wait to go back. There are enough changes happening at the company that I suspect that I will REALLY need this vacation when it finally happens. I'm excited to see Tuscany in the fall!

And it's time to open that Rosetta Stone box that contains my Italian lessons!

Thoughts I Had on My Taxi Ride to Work This Morning

1. Wow, he looks kind of cranky.
2. How is he going to get my bag in the back seat?
3. Hurry and put your seatbelt on!
4. Where is the seatbelt latch???
5. Does he see that red light??????
6. Oh, crap. 66 is going to be jammed -- it's after 9.
7. Is he really going to exit here? I wonder what route he's going to take to the office?
8. HOLY CRAP! CLOSE YOUR EYES!!
9. Don't look out the front. Look at the pretty trees instead!
10. Pretty trees. We're having really nice weather.
11. Dude, don't complain about slow cars if you're going to drive in the right lane.
12. Just go around!
13. I wish I had zipped up my purse.
14. I really hope we don't crash into anyone.
15. I can't believe that furniture store is still in business.
16. THAT'S A TURN! SLOW DOWN!
17. Oh, my God -- he almost hit that guy!
18. Yikes -- what is she wearing? It's pretty at first glance, then not so much.
19. The construction worker is just doing his job.
20. THANK GOD WE GOT HERE SAFE.

I'm back, if only briefly

I was thinking, as I often do, of when my man is finally going to freaking show up, and I started laughing at how awesome he's going to have to be to get (a) the approval of my posse and (b) get along with my posse's husbands.  I'm going to be one lucky bitch.

Layoffs today at work.  I survived, barely, and in changed circumstances if I accept them.  I'm drinking bourbon and watching The Princess Bride.  Love it.

I promise I'm coming back more regularly when things settle down a bit, probably later this week.