Things the Italians Have Taught Me.

cherry perogies

Child labour is an important element of Italy's economy

 1.  Breakfast.  Breakfast will never be the same.  I was raised with breakfasts that were generally cereal, bacon and eggs on special occasions, pancakes.  A certain Auntie (bless her heart) taught me that you can cook bacon in the oven, the thick, good stuff, and drizzle it with a shit-ton of maple syrup in the last 10 mins of cooking.  Et voila!  Maple bacon, caramelly and delicious.  This certain Auntie also introduced me to blueberry perogies from Krauss Berry Farms.  (Go to there, it is awesome.)  Which led to todays breakfast post:

drizzled with sour cream and brown sugar

Toothless McGee contemplates Maple Bacon, which must always be capitalized.

So, we have the kind of high-energy  breakfast that makes you want to curl up and have a 2 hour nap after.  So eff off, "summer".
2.  My other darling Auntie gave me the bestest tip on earth for spaghetti sauce which I am sworn to take to my grave.  And I will.  But it's a gooder.  Really.  Sorry for the tease.  (She also held me down before my wedding and fixed my eyebrows.  Truly, thank you!!!)
3.  There are many types of cheese, and I like them all.  My top picks:  Sheep's Milk Sardo (which, as does everything, tastes better in Italy), Casu Marzu http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casu_marzu which I have eaten, as have all the Italians I know, and trust me, they do NOT burrow through your stomach and nobody knows anybody who has actually died from it.  The worms are intimidating, though.  Ricotta, homemade, is better and cheaper that all other ricottas, and apparently easy, though I have only witnessed it made and not attempted it myself as of yet.  Good Parmesan, the Grana Padano, is amazing in everything, especially cubed and drizzled with a mix of honey, black pepper and truffle oil.  (Thanks, Bob Blumer!)  And you save the rinds in the freezer to add to pasta sauces or soups!! Genius.
4.  Lasagna.  Not a meal.  A large, heaping plate of homemade lasagna to Italians is more often an appetizer or side.  We Canadians have been doing it alll wrong.
5.  You can have espresso after midnight and sleep just fine, if you treat lasagna as an appetizer at the beginning of 9 courses.  True story!!
6.  Mirto, a thick, syrupy alcohol in deep purple is made from alpine berries somewhere in southern Italy.  It is not to be consumed till inebriation, but if you do, you will never cough again.  You will, however, vomit.
7.  Cutting cheese and cutting yourself (accidentally of course, there are no emos in Italy) can lead to a horrific kind of blood poisoning.  Thought I'd share, because I for one am now much more careful with my cheesy knives.
8.  Ooh-  one of my favorite tips of all time, again from an Auntie:  Is it way too hot outside?  Got bosoms?  Shove a sprig of mint or rosemary or basil between those puppies, and you will sweat herbal deliciousness.  It was all I could do not to bury my face in them, which would have been hilarious, inappropriate,  and hilariously inappropriate.
9.  At Italian Catholic funerals that are open casket you have to kiss the corpse.  I have no issue with this, but someone should have prepped me.
10.  Pasta Puttanesca, whilst being a very good dish, translates roughly into "hooker pasta" as it is what the working girls threw together between clients.  This means that it's good, quick, cheap, and even you can do it.  Also, don't come to this realization in a fancy restaurant and ask the waiter about it.  He will bring out a very embarrassed, stammering chef.  http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Pasta-Puttanesca-242590  Ahh, there it is.  Ciao, Bella!

Moving on' Up!!!

So this is how last week went for me.  Thursday, panicky packing. Thursday night, way too much wine and scotch with our way too awesome neighbours from Venezuela.  (It ended with super clumsy Colombian salsa dancing in the living room.)   Friday, 7+ hours on the ferry there and back to ditch the kids with Grandma and Grandpa.  With a hangover.  (Thanks, guys!!)  Friday night more fevered packing, followed closely by too much wine, because we *thought* we were ahead of the game.  (El Idioto!!!)  Saturday morning, got truck, got friends, loaded truck, unpacked at new place by noon, and friends stuck around and helped unpack, some till 9pm!!  Then games and drinking.  Sunday morning, unpack, on and on and on... until the NKOTB and BSB concert

(stop looking at me like that!!) whereupon I shrieked like a 16 year old girl until I lost my voice, fall into partially assembled bed.  Monday, hubby goes off to class, week long buildup of hangover hits, and there is no food or liquid in the house except beer.  I cry some, unpack some more, and discover a great dim sum place close by.  Also, a friend visits and saves my sanity in a very important way.  Hubby comes home with the kids, we put them to bed, we unpack even more.  Tuesday, we take my son for surgery so he can have all of his baby teeth removed.  Tuesday night is panicking and setting up the kitchen so I can make pureed everything.  Insert somewhere in this timeline 2 trips to Ikea and much cursing and assembling of crap.  My poor boy looks like a redheaded hillbilly and -bonus- gets super hyper off of any medications that make other children sleep.  So I have a bleeding, drooling, hyper boy with bad balance from the general anesthesia who just wants to dance.     And he's at that age where he eats all day and never gets full.  Hard do do with soup, jello, creme brulee.  So, (deep breath) I can slow down right now.  And I dedicate this song to my son.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YWo1TJZdzqw&feature=fvst   I promise I'll get back to my entertaining self soon.  And I'll post pics as soon as I find my upload cords for the cameras.  And the hairbrushes and toilet paper.  Ciao!!

Blog!!

I'm moving, so I'm not blogging.  Because I have time for packing (no I effing don't) and child-rearing only. (ha!) And, as hubby points out, a blog isn't people.  People need things from me.  Like a lay. (Ha! Hahaha!)  Things I suddenly have time for now that I'm "packing":  reading that book I got for Christmas that I totes forgot about, installing hardwood flooring in my dollhouse (yes it's mine, don't look at me like that),  visiting friends (I'm moving 23 minutes away!!! On Saturday!! Get your time in now!)  Going to a burlesque show tonight (not dancing in one.. apparently they prefer you to register, have a costume AND have an act.. gawd, this "no fun" city) and over-plucking my eyebrows.  I have also taken a special moisture bath I have been waiting a long time for (okay, I just poured some milk in it and now I smell) and painted my toenails.  Clear.  But it, like, took forever to dry, okay?  Stop looking at me!!! 
     So, my new place is huge by VanCity standards, 2 floors, 5 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms.  It has a dishwasher older than my grandmother (remember the color before avocado?) and my children may well be learning Cantonese in school and I am happy.  Because I have windows.  And no bedbugs (yet.) And I plan to dig up the lawn and make a garden, and get a kitty and a puppy and redo the countertops.  (If my new landlords read this blog my next post with be about evictions, obvs.)
     So I don't have time for this!!!  Stop pressuring me!!! Hey, Game of Thrones?  You're fucking up my LIFE!!! (and you're awesome.  Don't stop being awesome.).  Gotta run. Sigh.