ITALIAN AWAKENING - FOOD, ARTS, AND GIGOLOS

Everything and anything Italian gets my heart racing…….

From their names, way of pronouncing certain words, their food, their fashion, their art, their architecture, their opera, their wine, their parmesan and their men…..

Contemplating anthropologically – how is it that certain countries produce beautiful men – leaving the female of that population out of luck.     Take France, Italy, or Greece, be it their waters, wine or food that they eat,  they seem to generate these incredible and delectable men simply meant for procreation.

With the women of Turkey, Egypt and Persia, under the Purdah, these ladies have beautiful skin, blue-green eyes with striking beauty.   The men did not have such good fortune on their side, (Allah gave them oil - so what do they need good looks for?)  with their rough bearded skin cloaked in white robes, hiding what could be a six-pack or more likely a bloated belly.   In South East Asia, the Thai women are well known for their charm, beauty and femininity but their men fail miserably trying to look like plastic Korean dolls bordering on hermaphroditism. 

So gets lets back to the Italian charms – of  Pedro, Pasta and Proseco.    For after all I am a woman, that likes her chianti, men and linguini not necessarily in that order.

Campo De’Fiori in Roma is where my pillow is for the next few weeks or months conditional on many issues. The field of flowers, Campo De’Fiori is south of the Piazza Navona.  Abandoned field of flowers in the 14^th century, the square became a daily market.  

In the 1600 it was the scene of many an execution, notably Giordano Bruno burned at the stake for his philosophical ideals.   

Today as I walk along the cafes and shops, the ‘ambiente’  begs of  fresh Mediterranean produce, an extraordinary butcher shop called Il Florentino.  The meat is displayed as if it were jewels from Harry Winston’s.   From the back of vans, rows of  pretty white cotton dresses complimenting the summer sky selling like hot cakes.   Tents selling produce of Italy, from sun dried tomatoes to limonchello, meandering round these shops, I am late for my Italian cookery class.

Chef Andrea Consoli, operates this cooking school in the center of Rome on Via Fienaroli and today he is teaching me Artichokes Roman style, homemade fettucine with Norma Sauce, stuffed meatballs and for dessert chocolate souffle.

The day passed by so deliciously, experiencing shopping in the market, and then later cooking in Chef Andrea’s kitchen.    I am slowly devouring the taste and texture of the chocolate souffle as taught  by Pedro to use  my tongue simply tasting and awakening the taste buds to  the velvety smoothness of every ingredient that has gone into this special souffle.   Re-creating this for my special man, Pedro says  that this kind of seduction will work every time.  Is he hinting?  

My time in Campo d'fiori is  a mixture of  learning a language, becoming more eloquent and knowledgable on art, loving more passionately, and consuming excellent Chianti.   

Two days of cooking interwoven by two days worth of art lessons from Pedro began to rejuvenate  my soul, my stomach and my heart.