April 20, 2011
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April 14, 2011 I have a Sicilian friend. Let’s call him “Gianni.” Gianni is about to open a tourist hotel in my ancient village. One day Gianni and I were walking down the narrow lane toward his hotel. Sheets were dripping overhead–like in the scene below. “No good for tourists,” Gianni said scowling and indicating the laundry. “Brutta.” Ugly. Perhaps, he mused, he could get the comune to outlaw laundry in the neighborhood?
He gave me that “you’re so weird” look. Reader, what do you think? Do you think Gianni should try to eradicate hanging laundry in the vicinity of his hotel? *** Congratulations to Liz Silva, who won the book raffle: Sweet Lemons 2: International Writings with a Sicilian Accent. Thanks to all of you who entered, and I’m sorry I can’t give everybody a book. But stay tuned for more book contests. *** January 22, 2011 The roving veggie peddlers who park outside the house and bay till they’re hoarse have lettuces so fresh they crawl with snails. You tear off a giant leaf and there they are—antennae waving in terror. I suppose if I were a brave Sicilian, I’d boil them up and bolt them down with some lemony oil. (Old Sicilian Proverb: You never get enough of kissing a sweetheart or eating snails.) Instead I toss them onto the terracotta roof across the alley and hope they’ll live a day longer. Produce in Sicily is so fresh it comes with extras. Mushrooms with the roots and soil that fed them…
Tomatoes with their umbilical cord…
Oranges with their branches…
Eggs with mommy’s feathers.
I HEART my fruit & veggie hawker.
January 16, 2011 If icicles dangle from your lashes and hoarfrost coats your lips, I’m sorry. Really, I am. Here in Sicily the sun warms my limbs as I work on my tiny balcony. And reflected in my computer screen is an image that makes my heart burble:
You know how some people have a zillion photos of their dog, or their kid? I’m obsessive that way about my cupola.
What would you like reflected in YOUR computer screen? *** Click to subscribe to BaroqueSicily.
December 22, 2010 I walked out the door two nights ago and stumbled into candles and donkeys and music and straw. Jugs of wine and a vat of fresh ricotta. Why am I always the last one to know what’s happening in my village? It was a presepe vivente, a crèche come to life. Every village seems to have its own, starring locals as shepherds, washer women, and musicians. There’s another one here the day after Christmas, starring Jesus, Maria and Giuseppe.
x xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx x Buon Natale! *** Click here to subscribe to BaroqueSicily. |
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