Just before leaving for Japan to pick up my mother and take her to Italy (yes, this is the year of Enabling Aging Parents) I picked up "Eat, Pray, Love" at Goodwill along with a black blazer I thought would be handy on the road in Italy. Maybe the "Eat" section would give me ideas for where and what to eat in Italy.
I'd avoided the book, thinking it was a silly novel. It turned out not to be a novel. It was far worse. Despite the author's introduction, explaining that the book was divided into three sections about three countries and the first one would be about Italy and the pursuit of pleasure, especially the pleasure of eating, I realized while slogging through the first section that it was all about this woman whining about her life and relationships. What a sorry excuse of a book. I thought I'd be reading something to stimulate my appetite before the two weeks in Italy. Instead, it was giving me a headache.
During my short 2 weeks in Italy, I had no time to whine. I was too busy eating. Pizzas and pastas, artichokes and fresh porcinis, parma ham, salami, dainty little clams and graceful prawns, nutty asparagus and tasty tomatoes, creamy gelatos, fluffy pastries, rich cheeses and lots and lots of wine... The prayers were thanks to the Divine for this bounty. And with all this luscious food, how could there NOT be amore in the air?
Labels: Italy, matters of the belly, on-the-road