corniche

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We had a few really lovely, golden, late-summer days here. Maybe I was in a French mood from watching this movie the night before, but driving along North Lake Shore Drive to work in the morning reminded me of Cannes--something about the combination of the road, the trees on the median and the park to the left, and the sun glinting off the water and the gently swaying boats in the harbors.

It's somewhat odd that given how much the lake is a part of the city--and how huge it is--that we don't have more of a coastal culture. Of course, there are probably many people who spend every weekend on their boats or at the lakefront and would strongly disagree. I wish I knew more of them!

Blogging reminds me daily how pathetic my photography skills are--at least for this one I have the excuse that I was driving at the time. Please use your imagination!

mussels

Tried out a new recipe for steamed mussels last night from this book on a friend. Although the recipes have French flair, this one respects the Italian culinary ideal of the best ingredients, simply prepared. This is what went in it:

mussels
olive oil
garlic
chopped chili peppers
white wine
tomato sauce


I made a salad from green leaf lettuce using an olive oil, vinegar, and anchovy dressing from a Mario Batali recipe that is supposed to be for puntarelle, which is probably out of season and even in season would be hard to find here. Of course with mussels you have to have frites--in this case baked, chunky-style--and aioli, which I buy because the last few times I have tried to make this mayonnaise-like condiment, it hasn't worked out. This is one of the few recipes where I have to admit defeat.

Mussels are really easy to make and inexpensive too, about $5 a pound (a pound per person is generous). I suspect us non-coastal Midwesterners find the idea of preparing them intimidating, especially when recipes refer to the de-bearding process (removing the seaweed-type substance that comes out of the shell). But the ones at Whole Foods are already de-bearded--just give 'em a good rinse. Then you put them in a pot with the ingredients, steam for about six minutes, and that's it.

The whole meal cost less than $35. (I don't think I've ever gotten out of Whole Foods for less than $50).

old stone

Rome is a bunch of old stones piled on top of each other throughout the centuries--marble cannibalized from ancient monuments to gild Renaissance palaces, rocks heaved in from ruins to plug holes, buildings built on top of older buildings built on top of even older structures. You look at an ocher-colored wall and try to wrap your mind around the fact that it has been the backdrop for events both historical and mundane for hundreds or thousands of years before you existed. For a moment the concept of time seems ridiculous--"How is that even possible, that I am here and they are not?" And then your brain rights itself and you accept the reality of time again, because you have no choice.

This stone wall along the lakefront bike path probably measures its life in decades, but how many kisses, scraped knees, and tantrums (it is right next to a public golf course) has it seen?

smart car

I've been seeing a lot of these around town lately and finally had the wherewithal to get off my bike and take a quick snap of one. The ones here seem to be two-seaters, but I've actually ridden in the back seat of one in Italy. It was uncomfortable, but doable.

I've considered getting one. Club Monaco and the Smart Car banded together on some publicity push a few months ago (I know--I didn't get it either) and I was badgered into taking a test drive. It handled pretty well, actually. But I'd be nervous about my long daily drive to the office, where I encounter a lot of semis. Semi versus Smart Car = Smart Car pancake. I'm not sure about the lack of passenger space either, but on the other hand 95 percent of the time it's just me in the car. It'd be a nice second car, though. And it would be easy to park--although I'm not sure this would be legal here.

taking a seat wherever you are

Quite a while ago I somehow got subscribed to the Telegraph's newsletter for expats, which is odd since I am neither an expat or British. I don't like people subscribing me to these things without my permission--it's a huge breach of e-etiquette--but I kept this one for the essays on expat living. Today's relates to the theme of this blog, which is that you don't need to be in Paris or Rome to be happy.* To wit:

Everyone in the world has a routine, the same things to do by the end of the day or the week, but without realising that routine is in itself something to be enjoyed. From London to New York the commute to work is an opportunity to make new acquaintances, chat with the woman who has been sitting next to you every morning for the past two years, or smile at the children on their way to playschool, or simply enjoy the morning air. From New Delhi to Stockholm lunchtime is the perfect moment to try something new: a different restaurant, different company, or simply a walk in the park and a good book.

As one of my favorite bloggers in France has said,

The perfect place?

Is the space

in between
the past and the future,
the empty chair
that calls our
name,
Be here now.
one place
or another

we must take a seat
and
be happy
where we are.

"Be here now" was one of my mother's frequent mantras and I try to remember and obey it--but it's very difficult, especially when you are not particularly happy and would rather be somewhere else, physically and emotionally.


*Although I certainly think it can help!

bambini

OK, this post is really just an excuse to post some photos of my brand-new nephew. (Isn't he cute?) But it is true that Italians love the bambini. All these expat blogs I read talk about how the Italian neighbors warmed up to the weird foreigners once they had a baby. But that's pretty irksome: so if you don't want to have kids, you have to be the outsider straniera for the rest of your life, I guess. You're not someone until you have kids!

For being spoiled, though, Italian kids are pretty well-behaved. At least in public!

Seeing Italy in Chicago a little too literally

I once read an article in which a shepherd somewhere in the Middle East or North Africa suddenly spotted an old Roman coin in the earth. So when I lived in Rome, I always kept my eyes open when I was out in the country, much to my friend Rachel's amusement. "Are you looking for your coin?" she'd tease when she saw me scanning the ground.

I guess technically taking an old coin out of the country could be considered stealing a part of the country's cultural history--but nothing like the cache found at a bungalow in Berwyn a couple of years ago. After John Sisto died in 2007, his son knew he'd find a ton of artifacts at the house--and he did. Millions of dollars' worth, including things from the Vatican, ancient statues, and medieval manuscripts. They're finally on their way back to Italy, although some pieces whose provenance cannot be determined will be returned to Sisto's family.

Hmm, come to think of it, I do have a piece of old pottery that I found on the beach in Sicily . . . *

Read all about the treasure trove in Berwyn here.


*Lest you think I've become an international archeology thief, it's obviously contemporary.