I’m currently writing for Healthkicker.com- a health and fitness blog. I write some posts about Italy and traveling that you guys might be interested in.
Here’s one of them: The Italian Food Culture or, la cultura italiana di cibo
Hope you enjoy it, feel free to comment! (Hopefully nice stuff!)
We, me and my fellow Marist students, arrived Tuesday morning, 9am here, 3am for U.S. time, ready to explore. We arrived to our apartments an hour later. I still don’t know what to make of it. The apartment is fairly large, or long is the more proper term, with an expanding hallway that on either side includes entrances to two bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room, and two bathrooms. The bathroom quickly prompted me to Google search how to use a bidet. Not yet a fan of it. Although the apartment is spacious, it’s old. Which means, no air conditioning (great in this 90 degree weather!), noisy pipes, and creaky furniture. The view is nice, we’re within a piazza with other old looking buildings colored the classic Tuscan yellow. We’re also located right next to Ponte Vecchio, which is a beautiful sight within itself.
My roommate and I decided to do a lot of walking in order to stay out of the apartment and battle the need for sleep (sleep won around 6p.m. until dinner). We went to a 99 cent store to get cleaning supplies, which took us an extra 15 minutes trying to figure out what was laundry detergent. After, we went to a grocery store, which proved much more daunting than we expected, especially since neither of us cooks. A half hour later, we left with the familiar items of frozen chicken nuggets, cereal and eggs. We’re really hoping for improvement on that part.
Later on, we walked around the different plazas and past the various vendors. I love the fact that the Florence symbol is the fleur de lis (also KKG’s symbol) and it’s on everything. Potential gifts for my fellow sorority sisters? I think so.
For dinner, my roommate and I met up with our friend at a restaurant across the river. The owner of the restaurant convinced us to eat there with his charming Italian ways (and the fact that he knew English) when he saw us viewing the menu outside where we were trying to compare prices. Our friend managed to insult the owner by asking him specific prices about everything (typical Americans, obsessed over money). The owner was surprised when we explained to him that water is free in America. It’s not like we can drink the tap water here though; the argument is moot. The ravioli I ordered was amazing and the creamy sauce was heavenly, nothing like I ever ate at home.
I’m going to need to learn how to cook more to resist the temptation of eating out every night.