Florence

I had a crazy few days of traveling....Italy to Frankfurt to Zurich to Chicago to Zurich to Frankfurt to Florence, all in the space of just 6 days! I was pretty sure Florence would be a bust, especially because Dave had been "stop-dead-in-your-tracks" sick all week, we were way behind on laundry (yes, that again), and I was exhausted.

But we had been to Florence for a few days last summer and I really wanted to return. It's probably cliched to love Florence so much. It's really one giant tourist trap, but we couldn't help ourselves. It's a good place to get lost in, so we went anyway.

We got off to a shaky start because we happened to be flying on the same day those explosive printer cartridges were found in the cargo shipment in Europe. Our terminal was evacuated once. And then, after we had waited in an excruciatingly long security line and when we were only two people away from placing our bags on the conveyor, it was evacuated AGAIN. Then we waited in ANOTHER excruciatingly long security line. Then we missed our flight. It all worked out, though, because they put us on the next flight and we got to Florence around noon.

Our hotel had a neat little balcony (and free wireless!). Dave managed to procure a bottle of wine and some sandwiches while I prepped for a conference call.





















We got really lucky with absolutely perfect weather on the first day. Since we like to spend the entire day walking the streets, rain would have definitely put a damper on things. We ogled ancient architecture, walked all over the maze of streets, shopped, shopped and shopped, ate and drank and overall had a pretty good time.

I'd been craving gelato for weeks. We stopped at the third second first place we saw and got a healthy dose to tide us over for a while. Sensing our role as stupid Americans, the girl working at the gelato counter made Dave an insanely large cone and charged us about two thousand euros. He made very short work of it.



See? It's a mouse, with cookie ears!



Dave claims he's a big fan of David Rocco, the chef on the Cooking Channel, but I suspect that he's a bigger fan of David Rocco's wife, Nina. Here's Nina:

See? Anyway, David Rocco is filmed in Florence and we were able to find this cool dam in the middle of the Arno that we saw once on his show. We walked out into the middle of the river, hung out a while and wished we had thought to bring along a picnic lunch.

















There was this amazing market right outside our hotel and we spent approximately 9000 hours walking up and down the aisles. Dave watched patiently for 8999 hours while I picked up and inspected every single bag, glove, briefcase, scarf and key chain. I was determined to find a new laptop case, but I was having a hard time estimating the size of my laptop. Finally, I found the perfect bag. And then another. And some scarves. Happy day.

There was a large indoor market too. We had a private tasting of balsamic vinegars from 8 to 25 years old. Luckily, it took a lot less than 9000 hours to figure out which we wanted. There's also a pretty good story in which Dave tried to muscle in on another group's private tasting with bad results which he, of course, mulled over for days, but that's best left for a verbal re-telling. We'll tell you the story at the slide show.

Speaking of balsamic, let me interject here another cool thing about food stores in Germany. Balsamic glaze. Yes, that's a cool thing. They have it everywhere. You know when you get one of those caprese salads and the vinegar is scattered around the plate in swirls and dots? And when you try to do that at home it just pools in the bottom under the tomatoes? That's where the magic of balsamic glaze comes in....it's thickened vinegar, so it stays where you put it. I bought four bottles to take home.

Ok, after that brief interlude, back to Italy....

We went back to a restaurant that we had gone to last summer and it was just as friendly and welcoming as I remembered. The host (maybe the owner?) was delighted to see himself in a picture we took last year, so we took more and he was just as goofy as he was then.

Saturday ended up being much colder. We still spent a lot of time walking, though. We tracked down another restaurant, a panini place, that still makes sandwiches to order. This is a dying trend in Florence, where all the sandwiches now arrive in delis pre-packaged and you just pick out the one you want. Dave was intimidated by the prospect of ordering a sandwich in Italian, so I took one for the team. The counter guy didn't seem too thrilled with my combination of eggplant, mortadella, cheese, tomatoes, and mustard (Really, you want that?), but he made it anyway and I think it was ok. I'm not big on sandwiches, but it wasn't the worst thing I've ever tasted. I just realized I might be the first person in history to refer to food, fresh food, from Italy, in Italy, as "not the worst thing I've ever tasted."

Sunday was terrible; rainy, cold and miserable. We were totally exhausted (and maybe a little hungover). We changed our flight to one that left a couple hours earlier, hopped a cab to the airport and waited there for three hours - long lines, weather delays, and a futile search for my lost iPhone. The lost/found actually told us that they don't handle lost objects, they turn them over to the police.

Us:     Can we talk to the police?
L&F:  They don't like it if we call them.
Us:     Can we call them?
L&F:  No, they'll be here in 20 minutes
Us:     Our flight leaves in 10 minutes, can you write down their number or Lufthansa's lost and found info?

They finally gave us a form on which the information for Lufthansa's lost and found office was printed. This was also futile. This is how most things go in Italy. I think it's part of their charm.

For some reason, when we arrived in Frankfurt I had the insane idea that we would take a train home from the airport. This is a very do-able proposition, but maybe not such a great thought when we were soooooo tired. It took about an hour to get back to the apartment (but only cost 7 euros!) I can't even begin to describe how nice it was to sleep in my own bed away from my own bed (even with those crazy pillows). Heaven.

Looking back over our pictures, I still want to go back again. Maybe we'll rent one of those Tuscan country houses in a couple of years...:)

By the way, Dave wasn't trying to be coy in that bottom pic, he was just midway through the process of removing his sunglasses when the picture was snapped....

About time

I guess a new blog post is in order. But, it's not going to happen now.
Even though "now" would really be the perfect time because we're just sitting in the airport, waiting for the next flight to Florence after we missed the last flight because the airport was evacuated TWICE for security reasons.
Good times.

Fancy meeting you here....

Today we stopped by the market on the way home (no bag, no coin) to pick up a couple things. As we were walking out, we ran into someone we know walking in.

We stopped to chat for a while and it was a weird feeling. Like, the first time since we've been here that I've felt like I kinda belonged, or that things could be a little bit like they are at home.

Of course, since we didn't have a bag, our purchases were clearly visible. Dave, standing there, clutching a box of ice cream bars and a loaf of garlic bread.

Amsterdam, again.

We went to Amsterdam again this past weekend. This was partly because we didn't get off our asses fast enough to make other travel arrangements and partly because we really enjoy it. It's such a small city - you can walk from one end to the other in about an hour and look at lots of pretty/interesting things and that's about our favorite thing to do in any city. That's why we're the kind of people who've been to Paris a few times, but have never been to the Louvre: I'd rather just walk around.

Anyway, we decided to drive to an arena just outside of Amsterdam and use the Park and Ride service to take the train into the city center. Never. Again.
It worked out ok and everything, but it was such a pain to be on a train for more than an hour when we had just driven into the city 2 weeks before and knew how quick driving was. Anyway, once we got past the train madness and checked into our hotel (very nice, inexpensive, and highly recommended), we were on our way.

The weather was absolutely perfect - high 60's and loads of sunshine. We hit every shopping street we missed the first time and we also hit an open air market in the middle of the city. I got a kicky little black scarf and Dave got food, lots and lots of food.....

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We found a great wood-block print at a gallery and bought it for the living room. Now, I wish we could go back yet again because I realized too late that both Dave's father and his wife, Alaine, would have really liked something from there too. They have each lived in Amsterdam for extended periods. Oh well.

We walked all the way into the center of the city, had a great snack at a Mexican restaurant (what? we miss Mexican food), and walked all the way back to the hotel.

Dave looks much happier after a margarita and a beer....

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That evening we had reservations at Sama Sebo so we could try the real rijtaffel dinner (you can read more about that from our first trip there here). The dinner was crazy. Nuts. Let's just say that they have to bring an additional table to hold all the food.

See all those plates? That was all just for us. That's actually only about two-thirds of the food that was brought out. Bananas.




But the best part of the trip for me might have been the drive. It took a little while to get used to it, but now I love the Autobahn. It's amazing how polite and careful everyone is when they're driving 110 miles an hour. We've yet to see an accident and I've only seen one total jerk. Because everything is happening so fast, you have to pay attention the whole time. It might be a little more tiring, but you never have those moments where you just zone out. I think that makes the time go by a lot faster.

When perusing the following pictures, please disregard the fact that I may or may not have been taking pictures while driving at very high speeds. Really, I might not have been - Dave took some pictures too!

Au revoir Amsterdam.

(Did you get that? See, we'll be in Paris this weekend and I said goodbye in French!)

:)

Is it us?

We're planning to go to Paris this weekend
There's a big labor strike in Paris right now.
Of course there is.

Things to do, things to do....

You may or may not know that, on most days, Dave sends me an email reminder of anything I've mentioned I would like to do. Let's just say we're sitting around on a Sunday afternoon and I say, "I really need to get outside this week and pull those annoying weeds near the sidewalk." Dave will ask me what day I want to do that and on the designated day this will appear as a reminder in my inbox. It's like having one of those voice recorders, and an electronic calendar, and a really funny friend, all in one.

Since we've been in Germany, I don't get that many reminders because there isn't that much to do. Lately, I've really missed the feeling of having a project to look forward to. When we were driving to Amsterdam last weekend, I mentioned that I want to make some small adjustments to our kitchen when we get home.
Nothing big, just a few changes to things that have been bugging me.

First of all, I want to make a better recycling area. Dave has a habit of just leaving the recyclable stuff on the counter near the back door. Sure, the bin is only twelve steps away if you open the back door, but who has time to go to all that effort? We don't have a very organized way of collecting returnables either, and that just irritates me. We usually just throw a brown bag by the door and toss them in there.
We do have a cabinet that is used mostly for roasting pans and junk other important stuff. If I move the roasting pans to the butler's pantry (more on that later) and shuffle around the junk other important stuff, I could have a whole cabinet for recycling and returnables.
I'm still debating the exact method, but it will be something like this:

Or, this:

I also want to install a bread box. I used to think bread boxes/drawers were the kind of thing only Grandmother's had, but now I'm starting to reconsider.
First of all, Dude the Cat really, really (REALLY) likes bread. Really.We have to keep it on a high shelf or, if left low and unattended, we'll find bite marks in the bag and large chunks missing from the loaf. Plus, there's Bob. He doesn't have a special hankering for bread, he just likes food. Finally, bread doesn't last very long and since I've been here, my sophisticated palate can't really stand the thought of going back to just sticking it in the fridge or in a plastic bag.
I think I'll just add a pull-out shelf in a cabinet on which we can place a bread box. I'm sure they make a built-in version, but that just sounds like an awful lot of work.

Finally, I need to improve the butler's pantry. I know that sounds pretty fancy, but it's really just what I call the closet in the hall. I don't think it's original to the house, but at some point someone added a built-in cabinet above three built-in drawers, and it's just outside the kitchen.
We used to use it as a linen closet, but a few years ago I moved all the linens upstairs and organized the closet to contain all our serving dishes and vases and placemats and, and, and.....
The shelves are high and deep, but in some ways that makes the cabinet kind of impractical because I have to take a lot of things out before I can get to the one thing I need. And serving dishes are shallow, so I have to store them nested inside each other and that doesn't always work so well, either.

I have this fantasy solution where I have an exact place for everything in a sparkling white cabinet, with little silver nameplates and about a hundred adjustable shelves. The final result probably won't be that great, but it will be a lot more organized.
I've been scouting around for inspiration and this is what I've found:

I love the little hang-y hook things. I'm definitely using those for gravy pitchers and creamers.

How cool is this? If I could add about 3 feet to both the front and back of the house, we'd be all set. Sigh...

Now this seems just about right. I like the idea of using those IKEA boxes for the small stuff, too.
I think I might put some dowels horizontally across the back, to hold up the platters. I have plenty of time to think about the details. I'll let you know when I get around to the actual project.

This brings me to today's reminder:

3. We need to make a list of those projects you want to start when we get home-home.

Done.

Laundry (or, I Should Have Known)

Get ready for a funny little story.

After waiting to do laundry for a couple of weeks (we were still scoping out the new building) I have to say that I was ready to kiss the washing machine when we finally went downstairs to load it up. I did notice that there was a duvet in the dryer, but no biggie, we had time. We would have just dumped the clothes right in, but that would imply that there is something easy about this process. Instead, we had to check the rates on this machine, then walk to the main building to transfer our Euros into Deutsche Marks. I'm sure there are washing machines that accept Euros, but that would imply that they were assembled and shipped sometime in the last 20 years. Ours wasn't. One mark costs about .8 Euros, which is about $1.10. In the last building, we needed 6 DM for one load of wash/dry ($6.60).

So, we go to the main building to buy enough marks for one load in the washer and the dryer.
But, oh, wait, they're out of marks. It would be crazy to have enough for both washers and both dryers because it's completely impossible that they would all be used at the same time, right?

So we wait until the next day.

The next day, I return to the main building for the marks. They have them! Except I'm informed that these machines require 8 marks, 4 for washing and 4 for drying. Yikes, that's $9.00. But whatev's, you gotta do laundry, right?

So, I buy the marks for one load in the washer and the dryer and scramble downstairs to make sure the washer is unoccupied (it is) and dump the clothes in. It takes a little while to figure out the German control panel, but I do it. Mission 1: Complete.

I notice that the (fully dry) duvet is still in the dryer, but I figure it will probably be gone when I get back.

A couple hours later, I skip downstairs to move the clothes in to the dryer. The duvet is still there, and now I need the dryer, so I carefully fold it and place it on the ironing board. As I'm doing this, of course, the owner of the duvet arrives downstairs. I tell her I'm sorry I moved the duvet, I hope it isn't a problem, I need the dryer, blah, blah, blah.

It is a problem. On top of that, she's shocked (actually, amazed) that I'm moving the clothes to the dryer right after I washed them.

"No, no, no. You have to wait at least one day. The clothes are too wet now and it will cost you too much money to dry them."

Huh? I have to leave them in the washer, wet, for at least one day?

"Yes, leave them in the washer."

So we wait until the next day (which is fine for someone who has, like, patience).

Late in the evening of Day 3 of Operation Laundry, I move the clothes to the dryer (the f'in duvet is there again, and I move it, AGAIN) and dump in my 4 marks.

On the morning of Day 4, Dave arrives to empty the laundry. Not dry. Not even close.
He goes to the main building to get 5 more marks.
Then he dumps 5 more marks in the machine. Not dry. Not even close.
He goes to the main building to get 5 more marks, again. Then he dumps 5 more marks in the machine, again. Not dry. Not even close.

Then he takes all the clothes out of the dryer and spreads them all over the bathroom to dry.

Now we've spent more than $20.00 and we have a bathroom full of wet clothes AND YOU CAN JUST IMAGINE HOW MY PATIENCE IS TAKING THAT.

On Day 5 of Operation Laundry, I pull a wet shirt out out of the bathroom and stomp down to the main building. I swear, I can literally hear the desk clerks groan when they see me coming.
I explain that there is clearly a problem with the dryer in our building. I explain that the nice lady who lives in the building (and leaves her f'in duvet in the dryer for THREE DAYS) told me that I have to leave the clothes in the washer for a day before I can dry them. Then I explain that we've spent 14 marks over 2 DAYS in the dryer and they're still not dry.
They seem puzzled.
At this point, I pass the wet shirt over the counter to illustrate the nature of the problem.

"Can I just use the dryer in the other building," I say, "it worked fine."
This is a major request. Supervisors must be found and permission must be granted, but I walk out of the lobby with a key to the other building.

And 4 more marks.

Now, we take all of our (wet) clothes, stuff them into a plastic laundry hamper, put them in the back of the car, drive over to the other building, and dump them in the old dryer.

And, behold, after 5 days, 2 hours and $25.00, we have armfuls of nice, dry clothes.

And one missing sock.