<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279382475733472006</id><updated>2011-07-07T23:45:52.755-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Blog That Ate Manhattan Goes to Italy</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Margaret Polaneczky, MD (aka TBTAM)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16555722791007332247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/SXS6Qq2gJAI/AAAAAAAAGIA/51LzaRdb7ec/S220/Photo+66.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>9</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279382475733472006.post-5364433592056598823</id><published>2010-03-02T18:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T18:02:19.501-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RyzFdu-9kFI/AAAAAAAACZ4/IgIUh50Y8c8/s1600-h/LONG%20COMPUTER%20BANNER.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="69" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RyzFdu-9kFI/AAAAAAAACZ4/IgIUh50Y8c8/s320/LONG%20COMPUTER%20BANNER.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;test&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4279382475733472006-5364433592056598823?l=tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/feeds/5364433592056598823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4279382475733472006&amp;postID=5364433592056598823' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/5364433592056598823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/5364433592056598823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/2010/03/test.html' title=''/><author><name>Margaret Polaneczky, MD (aka TBTAM)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16555722791007332247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/SXS6Qq2gJAI/AAAAAAAAGIA/51LzaRdb7ec/S220/Photo+66.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RyzFdu-9kFI/AAAAAAAACZ4/IgIUh50Y8c8/s72-c/LONG%20COMPUTER%20BANNER.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279382475733472006.post-4315825783131265571</id><published>2007-10-25T07:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T07:58:56.355-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TBTAM Does Italy - Part Last</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106094784045072834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rtx-JyB7QcI/AAAAAAAAB9k/QcJMUfankhQ/s400/epicuro+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Il giardino di Epicuro&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il Giardino Di Epicuro is a family-owned restaurant in Massa de Maritea that serves food made from ingredients that, for the most part, the owners grow themselves. They also cure their own meats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fernando calls the restaurant "the Philosopher". If so, the philosophy seems to be that of Horatius, whose famous quotation adorns the walls. (Translation - "Eat, drink...there is nothing else beyond that.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106096875694146002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtyADiB7QdI/AAAAAAAAB9s/QI2ds3BDe5U/s400/epicurio+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt; The night we eat at the Philosopher is a quiet one, so the owner himself takes our orders, or rather tells us what to order, in a gruff but lovable way that adds to the ambiance of this find of a restaurant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best part of the meal? Hands down, the Chickpea noodles. I&lt;em&gt; have&lt;/em&gt; to learn to make this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106097081852576242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtyAPiB7QfI/AAAAAAAAB98/9fhfO-zy6-8/s400/chickpea+noodles.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Other highlights? Gnocci with truffles&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106097214996562434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtyAXSB7QgI/AAAAAAAAB-E/BVq3cp1DVYg/s400/gnocci+truffles.jpg" border="0" /&gt; the homemade grappa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106097373910352402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtyAgiB7QhI/AAAAAAAAB-M/Yf_phq0WHdU/s400/epicurio+4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;and standing outside onto the vine covered patio looking at the moon while the kids play in the garden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ristorante Vincenzo a Mare&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106107097716310594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtyJWiB7QkI/AAAAAAAAB-k/Jo95uptoNic/s400/snapper.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Located in Port Maratea, Ristorante Vincenzo a Mare has a lovely, vine-covered porch overlooking the port. Fernando tells us he chose it, "so we can look at Fabrizio's boat". He and Fabrizio have reason to be proud of that boat. They brought her back to life with a new motor in a two-day long adventure that at one point had them stranded on the sea a windless hot afternoon with no sunscreen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106106230132916770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtyIkCB7QiI/AAAAAAAAB-U/I9skm0X5o2Q/s400/menu+maratea.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The menu at Vincenzo a Mare is handwritten, a charming touch that only added to the ambiance of a wonderful meal. The food is fresh and delicious, especially the snapper up there, which though bony, is exceedingly flavorful and well-spiced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the best part of the meal? The lesson Fernando gives us in Italian table manners. Here, I'll let him show you, as he explains how to do Scarpetta or "The little shoe".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-8021088410231544617&amp;hl=en" flashvars=""&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Double click on arrow to view video.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Beach Party Maratea&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For our last night in Maratea, Fernando has the perfect dinner suggestion, this time a beach party. Fabrizio, Emily and I take the boat into the Porta for pizza as the setting sun shines through gathering evening clouds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106117671925793410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtyS-CB7QoI/AAAAAAAAB_E/dJlNc1RyJjQ/s400/boat+view.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Fernando supplies the beer, and Diego brings his ipod and speakers. By the time we arrive with the pizza, it is growing dark, and the fire is blazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106118217386640018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtyTdyB7QpI/AAAAAAAAB_M/cEOBw0jgFSs/s400/beach+party.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Party may not be the best word for what we are doing, for we don't really drink much, and the families talk softly as we listen to the music and watch the Sea. I take a brief dip at the water's edge, and come back to find everyone starting to fall asleep. Time to put out the fire and head back to our hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no more perfect a way to end a perfect vacation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4279382475733472006-4315825783131265571?l=tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/feeds/4315825783131265571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4279382475733472006&amp;postID=4315825783131265571' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/4315825783131265571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/4315825783131265571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/2007/10/tbtam-does-italy-part-last.html' title='TBTAM Does Italy - Part Last'/><author><name>Margaret Polaneczky, MD (aka TBTAM)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16555722791007332247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/SXS6Qq2gJAI/AAAAAAAAGIA/51LzaRdb7ec/S220/Photo+66.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rtx-JyB7QcI/AAAAAAAAB9k/QcJMUfankhQ/s72-c/epicuro+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279382475733472006.post-9059929686152187294</id><published>2007-10-25T07:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T07:58:08.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TBTAM does Italy  - Part 7</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rtwd_SB7P0I/AAAAAAAAB4k/DeKF9TPr8UA/s1600-h/maratea1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105989050540179266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rtwd_SB7P0I/AAAAAAAAB4k/DeKF9TPr8UA/s400/maratea1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We spent the last part of our vacation in &lt;a href="http://europeforvisitors.com/europe/articles/maratea.htm"&gt;Maratea&lt;/a&gt;, a lovely town about 2 1/2 hours south of Naples at the southern end of the Campagna Region of Italy. The area is like the Amalfi Coast without the crowds, the prices or the tourists. Italian families come here year after year to summer, as do Wanja's friends Fernando and Martina, who generously allowed us all to tag along their annual vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maratea is really three towns. First, there is Porta Maratea, which is at sea level.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106068683528814978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtxmaiB7QYI/AAAAAAAAB9E/kl2uWYcHJK0/s400/maratea+porta+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106000402138742706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtwoUCB7P7I/AAAAAAAAB5c/gq4DZpgcEns/s400/maratea+porta+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Then there is the main town, or Centro Storico, nestled on the mountainside 1,000 ft above the Porta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106068820967768466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtxmiiB7QZI/AAAAAAAAB9M/rghjuV1IAv0/s400/maratea5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;It has a square,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105992623952969554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtwhPSB7P1I/AAAAAAAAB4s/lcHNyM02uTw/s400/maratea+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt; a mermaid fountain,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106133700743742178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtyhjCB7QuI/AAAAAAAAB_0/wCDDxCHrh8s/s400/mermaid.JPG" border="0" /&gt;charming little alleys&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106183440759997170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtzOySB7QvI/AAAAAAAAB_8/6UkKHHcYcPU/s400/maratea+10.jpg" border="0" /&gt; filled with restaurants,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106184398537704210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtzPqCB7QxI/AAAAAAAACAM/nNvwcOj8BtI/s400/maratea+15.jpg" border="0" /&gt;shops&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106185047077765922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtzQPyB7QyI/AAAAAAAACAU/UVoTZ2wCYLE/s400/maratea+12.jpg" border="0" /&gt;and galleries,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106184016285614850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtzPTyB7QwI/AAAAAAAACAE/KLovbmH-m10/s400/maratea+14.jpg" border="0" /&gt;and a bakery called Iannini that sells the most amazing cookies I have ever eaten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106132631296885458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtygkyB7QtI/AAAAAAAAB_s/twr5bS6e9Mo/s400/iannini.jpg" border="0" /&gt; The old town is Maratea Superiore, which sits atop Mt San Biago above cliffs so steep that the road extends out from the rock walls to allow cars to make the climb. &lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(Photo blatantly stolen from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://europeforvisitors.com/europe/galleries/italy/blg-it-maratea-superiore-road.htm"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Europe for Visitors&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106019355829420018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rtw5jSB7P_I/AAAAAAAAB58/_TkDoTrYFrU/s400/maratea_178_christ_statue_w_road_cropped.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Overlooking the town is the &lt;a href="http://faculty.ed.umuc.edu/~jmatthew/naples/maratea.htm"&gt;Statua del Redentore&lt;/a&gt;, or Christ statue, seen up there on the left. Our kids did not want to visit the statue, being freaked out by the urban legend that the statue had the face of the dead young man in whose memory it had been built.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We three families split ourselves between 2 apartments at Pianeta Maratea, a Catskills-like resort in the hills, complete with pools and a nightly teen disco&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106028783282634770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtxCICB7QBI/AAAAAAAAB6M/lsAbZyzGKlQ/s400/planeta+maratea.jpg" border="0" /&gt; and the rustic but lovely &lt;a href="http://www.cilento-ferien.de/hotel/en_hotel-illicini.html"&gt;Hotel Illicini,&lt;/a&gt; a cluster of well-appointed but simple adobe huts along the Mediterranean Sea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106032777602220114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtxFwiB7QFI/AAAAAAAAB6s/VQqNOuk2F64/s400/illicini+hotel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Here, we could choose to sit in the shade on the upper beach just outside our room&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106035844208869538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtxIjCB7QKI/AAAAAAAAB7U/ym8vQIfIDu8/s400/illicini+hotel+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;along with the salamanders,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106038386829508818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtxK3CB7QNI/AAAAAAAAB7s/bXMPJa4ZfqU/s400/illicini+hotel+5.jpg" border="0" /&gt;or walk down a short path to the lower beach for a swim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106037364627292354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtxJ7iB7QMI/AAAAAAAAB7k/GjYoZ6rj9A4/s400/illicini+beach+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106074863986753954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtxsCSB7QaI/AAAAAAAAB9U/w01p5f2GTPI/s400/illicini+best.jpg" border="0" /&gt;We could also join Fabrizio on his sailboat,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106066299821965682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtxkPyB7QXI/AAAAAAAAB88/z60nVkoimL8/s400/maratea+beach+7.jpg" border="0" /&gt; or take the shuttle bus to the larger public beach, which has two cafes, changing areas and kayaks to rent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106052916703871282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtxYEyB7QTI/AAAAAAAAB8c/iMWhZrY3N84/s400/maratea+beach.jpg" border="0" /&gt;One afternoon, we took the kayaks out along the coast, and the bravest among us swam into a hidden grotto. This, my friends, was everything a vacation should be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106075658555703730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtxswiB7QbI/AAAAAAAAB9c/8Dy9hRjJjUs/s400/maratea+beach+kids.jpg" border="0" /&gt;"But what", I hear you asking, "do the Italians eat at the beach?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll tell you what they eat. They eat Friselle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5106062284027543906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RtxgmCB7QWI/AAAAAAAAB80/bu9ZaEybTl0/s400/friselle.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Friselle with Tomatoes, Olive oil and Capers&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friselle are hard, double-baked bread from Puglia. We soften the Friselle by dipping them into the sea and ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait. Let's ask Wanja to explain it, she does it so much better than I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=-5856283534706687847&amp;hl=en" flashvars=""&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Double-click on arrow to start video (Sorry it's sideways...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4279382475733472006-9059929686152187294?l=tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/feeds/9059929686152187294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4279382475733472006&amp;postID=9059929686152187294' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/9059929686152187294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/9059929686152187294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/2007/10/tbtam-does-italy-part-7.html' title='TBTAM does Italy  - Part 7'/><author><name>Margaret Polaneczky, MD (aka TBTAM)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16555722791007332247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/SXS6Qq2gJAI/AAAAAAAAGIA/51LzaRdb7ec/S220/Photo+66.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rtwd_SB7P0I/AAAAAAAAB4k/DeKF9TPr8UA/s72-c/maratea1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279382475733472006.post-523773341672108821</id><published>2007-10-25T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T07:57:22.225-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Caring for Our Aging Parents - Lessons from Italy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RsfAtiB7PtI/AAAAAAAAB24/u5-8X48jgjc/s1600-h/VILLETRI.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100256991481904850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RsfAtiB7PtI/AAAAAAAAB24/u5-8X48jgjc/s400/VILLETRI.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our visit to Italy included a brief overnight at Fabrizio's family home in Velletri, a town in the Alban Hills about an hour outside of Rome. Fabrizio, Wanja and the kids come every weekend to this lovely old villa, and not just because they want to escape the heat in Rome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, Fabrizio's Dad has Alzheimer's disease. And though he has a nurse who stays with him during the week, Fabrizio comes to stay with him most weekends, a duty he shares with his sibs who live nearby. They feed, shave and bathe their Dad, and most importantly, watch to be sure he does not wander off, as he has done on more than one occasion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am moved, not just by Fabrizio's personal attention to his Dad, but by the family's acceptance of this lovely childlike man in their midst. His dad joined us at the dinner table, and although he did not speak, he smiled a lot. Like a small child, he was taken from the table when he was finished, and sat on the nearby sofa while we finished dinner. Then off to bed early, Fabrizio holding his hand as he led him upstairs to his room. No apologies were made to us, no complaints. My children did not skip a beat. Fabrizio's Dad was simply part of the family, just the way he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sort of loving acceptance is exactly what NY Times writer Denise Grady writes about this week in an article entitled, "&lt;a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2007/08/14/health/14seco.html?_r=1&amp;em&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;ex=1187323200&amp;en=d0e729d8196a22f5&amp;amp;ei=5087%0A&amp;amp;oref=slogin"&gt;Zen and the art of Coping with Alzeimers&lt;/a&gt;". &lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;If Dad wants to polish off the duck sauce in a Chinese restaurant like it’s a bowl of soup, why not? If Grandma wants to help out by washing the dishes but makes a mess of it, leave her to it and just rewash them later when she’s not looking. Pull out old family pictures to give the patient something to talk about. Learn the art of fragmented, irrational conversation and follow the patient’s lead instead of trying to control the dialogue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, just tango on. And hope somebody will do the same for you when your time comes. Unless the big breakthrough happens first.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Along with acceptance, my friends express an unquestioning belief that care of their parents is just another part of life. Wanja tells me stories of friends in similar circumstances doing much the same for their parents as Fabrizio does for his dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We don't have nursing homes here," Wanja tells me. "This is just what we do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's right. Italy has few nursing homes, and in almost all families, care of aging parents happens in the home. Acccording to a &lt;a href="http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m2459/is_n6_v26/ai_20206888/pg_8"&gt;1997 survey&lt;/a&gt; of nursing home care in 10 countries:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Italy has a national heath care system with universal coverage, modelled on the UK's National Health Service [20]. There is, however, a major difference, in that no provision was made for the long-term care of elderly people. There is no uniform policy and there are literally hundreds of local solutions to meet the needs of elderly people... in Italy the care of elderly people is almost exclusively the concern of families.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;The need for good home care in Italy has created a huge market for caregivers in Italy, a need that apparently is being filled in large part by &lt;a href="http://www.csmonitor.com/2007/0315/p01s03-woeu.html"&gt;Ukranian caregivers&lt;/a&gt;. It's a patchwork of a solution to a growing problem, as the average life expectancy in Italy rises and families with two working parents struggle to keep their parents at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it speaks of a nation that still has the family at its center.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though our stay in Villetri was brief, it has left an indelible impression upon me. As I watch my own parents aging, I can only pray that if the need ever arises, my sibs and I can care for them with the same grace that my dear Italian friends have shown in caring for their Dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4279382475733472006-523773341672108821?l=tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/feeds/523773341672108821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4279382475733472006&amp;postID=523773341672108821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/523773341672108821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/523773341672108821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/2007/10/caring-for-our-aging-parents-lessons.html' title='Caring for Our Aging Parents - Lessons from Italy'/><author><name>Margaret Polaneczky, MD (aka TBTAM)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16555722791007332247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/SXS6Qq2gJAI/AAAAAAAAGIA/51LzaRdb7ec/S220/Photo+66.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RsfAtiB7PtI/AAAAAAAAB24/u5-8X48jgjc/s72-c/VILLETRI.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279382475733472006.post-4075957270817792043</id><published>2007-08-05T07:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T07:21:12.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TBTAM Does Italy - Part 6</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094669618464388290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrPnBniLdMI/AAAAAAAABug/LM_hsiWV2Vc/s400/vinci4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vinci&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sleep late yet again (When will we recover from our jet lag?) and hit the road hours later than we had planned. Today's road trip will take us first to Vinci, the home of Italy's favorite son - Leonardo da Vinci. Until this day, we never realized that Leonardo's last name means "from Vinci" - Duh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Natalie wonders: "Does that mean everyone in this town has the same last name? Or is it just the famous ones? And if I ever get famous, will I be called 'Natalie from New York City'?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are very good questions that I cannot answer. Fortunately, Wikipedia can. &lt;blockquote&gt;The illegitimate son of a notary, Messer Piero, and a peasant girl, Caterina, Leonardo had no surname in the modern sense, "da Vinci" simply meaning "of Vinci": his full birth name was "Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci", meaning "Leonardo, son of (Mes)ser Piero from Vinci."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;Leonardo's birthplace is a small town surrounded by olive groves and rolling hills not very far from Florence. The centerpiece of the original Renaissance town is &lt;a href="http://www.leonet.it/comuni/vincimus/"&gt;the castle&lt;/a&gt;, which has been transformed into il Museo de Leonardo da Vinci.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094669214737462450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrPmqHiLdLI/AAAAAAAABuY/OxQhHoUjKhg/s400/vinci3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The museum is dedicated not to Leonardo's art, but to his machines - construction machines, optic instruments, fabric looms. They've built quite a number of Leonardo's machines to his exact specifications, including his bicycle and flying machine. This is just a great little museum!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094668995694130338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrPmdXiLdKI/AAAAAAAABuQ/kEJBmiAl7r8/s400/flying+machine.jpg" border="0" /&gt; The kids are actually interested, and we learn how a rack and pinion works, how simple machines can be used to lift large stones with little effort, and how ball bearings reduce friction. This is the physics of everyday life, the stuff I love to explain to the kids. And to see daVinci's actual notebooks and drawings is magical.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A short hike to the top of the tower is mandatory and we are rewarded with gorgeous views of the surrounding countryside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094668626326942850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrPmH3iLdII/AAAAAAAABuA/iZVpNuUrU2c/s400/vinci.jpg" border="0" /&gt;A quick sandwich in town and we hit the road again. Next stop, Lucca.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lucca&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The walled town of Lucca is a moderate sized city-within-a-city located not too far from Pisa. Earthen ramparts surround the entire inner city, and auto traffic is limited within its walls. No longer necessary for protection, the ramparts are essentially a 3 mile long city park, filled with tourists and locals of all ages bicycling, running or just strolling hand in hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094683942180320562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrP0DXiLdTI/AAAAAAAABvY/GUFljce_QEk/s400/ramparts5.jpg" border="0" /&gt; We decide to rent bikes and join in the fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094677284981011666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrPt_3iLdNI/AAAAAAAABuo/9_lLALvRzUg/s400/ramparts+bikers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094678083844928738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrPuuXiLdOI/AAAAAAAABuw/BDvUGHg_QIk/s400/ramparts+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;After about an hour of riding, the views of the town from the ramparts begin to tempt Mr TBTAM and I, who want to head down into the town to explore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094679767472108818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrPwQXiLdRI/AAAAAAAABvI/D7wa2JuVoK0/s400/lucca+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094680832623998242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrPxOXiLdSI/AAAAAAAABvQ/0xakBJ5RRTM/s400/lucca+4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;But the kids are enjoying the ramparts too much to come down, and we give in to them and take a break from touring. Emily starts a watercolor of this scene...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094679672982828290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrPwK3iLdQI/AAAAAAAABvA/hxlbqywy1h8/s400/lucca+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt; but before she is finished, a nearby church chimes the hour, and she must put away her paints so we can get the bikes back by 8 pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have planned things wrong - Lucca deserves more than a day, and now we must leave it unseen except for these wonderful walls. We debate staying over, but have train tickets back to Rome tomorrow, so it is not possible. And so we head back to Florence, once again promising to return to Italy and see all the things we have missed on this trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow - A litle more of Rome&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4279382475733472006-4075957270817792043?l=tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/feeds/4075957270817792043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4279382475733472006&amp;postID=4075957270817792043' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/4075957270817792043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/4075957270817792043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/2007/08/tbtam-does-italy-part-6.html' title='TBTAM Does Italy - Part 6'/><author><name>Margaret Polaneczky, MD (aka TBTAM)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16555722791007332247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/SXS6Qq2gJAI/AAAAAAAAGIA/51LzaRdb7ec/S220/Photo+66.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrPnBniLdMI/AAAAAAAABug/LM_hsiWV2Vc/s72-c/vinci4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279382475733472006.post-8565767823128278091</id><published>2007-08-05T07:17:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T07:18:12.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TBTAM Does Italy - Part 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094267089834439522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrJ47XiLc2I/AAAAAAAABrw/wiousO1b6RE/s400/sunflowers.bmp" border="0" /&gt;Our Italian hosts head back to Rome, leaving us on our own for a few days. Although we will miss them, we are excited about tackling this country ourselves. We decide to drive to Siena for the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving in Italy is not for the faint of heart, or for those who can't drive stick. Thankfully, we are neither. We rent a cute Alfa Romeo, grab a map and go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, few of the Italian roads have names or rte numbers, so getting anywhere is a challenge. We get lost, and find ourselves on the Autostrade to Pisa. This is actually fortunate, since we will become detoured tomorrow in this very area and will know how to get back to Florence because we were lost here today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094259079720432450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrJxpHiLc0I/AAAAAAAABrg/JoXGtyZECuM/s400/map+italy.JPG" border="0" /&gt;We decide to take rte 22, that green road up there that looks like a straight shot between Florence and Siena. We figure that the 40 kilometer or so drive will take at most 2 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy were we ever wrong. The road, which starts out flat and straight, is soon winding its way up into the mountains. The views are breathtaking, but so are the turns. Natalie, the Carsick Kid, does beautifully, but that is because we are driving so slowly, which for some odd reason seems to annoy those in the cars behind us. We only stall on a hill twice, leaving the Italian drivers behind us laughing hysterically. Oh, well... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094445786243757170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrMbc3iLdHI/AAAAAAAABt4/4VVS3SfNYOw/s400/olive+trees.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Panzano in Chianti&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stop in &lt;a href="http://www.abctuscany.com/florence/panzano-in-chianti/index.cfm"&gt;Panzano in Chianti&lt;/a&gt;, a small town about halfway to Siena, hoping to visit &lt;a href="http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_qn4158/is_20010407/ai_n14380042"&gt;Mario Cecchini,&lt;/a&gt; the famous Butcher. But his shop is closed today, the young boy mopping the floors tells us. So we decide to have lunch at Oltre il Giarndino, a lovely restaurant in a stone house just a few steps away from the small town square.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094275933172102018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrKA-HiLc4I/AAAAAAAABsA/Ju4dEeOG8RY/s400/il+giardino.jpg" border="0" /&gt;We sit on a large terrace shaded by Wisteria and other vines, overlooking the valley. The ravioli ricotta e spinaci al burro e salvia (ravioli in sage butter) is the best I have ever had in my life - how do they make it so light?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quick gelato for the kids, then back to the road. We take a wrong turn out of town, and find ourselves up amidst the vineyards. A roadside shrine provides a good spot to turn around and head back to the highway towards Siena.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094276976849154962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrKB63iLc5I/AAAAAAAABsI/ONsAiLF2ZOM/s400/statue+outside+Panzano.jpg" border="0" /&gt;As we make the turn, an old lady glares out at us from between her curtains. I can almost hear her muttering, "Touristsi..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Siena&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094279781462799266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrKEeHiLc6I/AAAAAAAABsQ/gyfEnKe5s54/s400/siena.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Siena is a medieval city built on a mountaintop in the heart of Tuscany. The heart of the city is restricted to pedestrians, giving it almost a Disneyworld kind of feel. But this is a real town populated year-round and having a vibrant shopping district, a strong arts culture, and a twice-yearly horse race around the Piazza del Campo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stop for a drink on this sweltering hot day. Looks like the birds in the Fonte Gaia ("Fountain of Joy") had the same idea...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094291644162470866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrKPQniLc9I/AAAAAAAABso/b3IbdvsgIvw/s400/bird+ladies+in+siena.JPG" border="0" /&gt; Mr TBTAM and Emily climb the Tower of the Pallazzo Publico while Nats and I tour the rooms inside. The frescoes there are amazing, and we are quite taken with Ambrogio Lorenzetti’s enormous fresco "Allegory of Good and Bad Government", which encompasses an entire room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094293070091613154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrKQjniLc-I/AAAAAAAABsw/dIXT8BSXxtw/s400/0view.jpg" border="0" /&gt; We lean in close to look at the detail on the strangely prophetic Bad Government frescoe....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094287881771119554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrKL1niLc8I/AAAAAAAABsg/mAXsl1ndTNw/s400/3bad1.jpg" border="0" /&gt; There is a jazz school in Siena, and they are recruiting students at the Pallazzo. I check out the brochure, but there is no course in scat singing. Too bad, I might have stayed on for that. But students of jazz are everywhere in this town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed style="width:400px; height:326px;" id="VideoPlayback" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docId=8106657463048273433&amp;hl=en" flashvars=""&gt; &lt;/embed&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(Double-Click player for a little Siena Street music.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stroll and shop, the it's on to the Duomo, which goes on record as my favorite church in Europe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094301565536924690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrKYSHiLdBI/AAAAAAAABtI/kWqLN3xedOk/s400/duomo+siena+outside.jpg" border="0" /&gt; I love everything about it - the zebra striped columns,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094299482477786114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrKWY3iLdAI/AAAAAAAABtA/MTQa3LTu9ls/s400/duomo+Sienna.JPG" border="0" /&gt; the floors&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094302536199533602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrKZKniLdCI/AAAAAAAABtQ/k4jeuZhj7fI/s400/duomo+siena+floor.jpg" border="0" /&gt; and the ceilings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094302828257309746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrKZbniLdDI/AAAAAAAABtY/iQiL_Wdlxs8/s400/duomo+siena+ceiling.jpg" border="0" /&gt; But the Duomo is closing, and the sun is setting. We need to get back on the road to make it to Florence before it is too dark to read the poorly lit road signs on the autostrade. So we head back down to the car, strolling a little more slowly than we should, vowing to return someday soon for a longer visit to this lovely town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094303781740049490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrKaTHiLdFI/AAAAAAAABto/kHPDtqnN-I8/s400/sienna+window.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094305422417556578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrKbyniLdGI/AAAAAAAABtw/tuA8YrPMNAI/s400/siena+streets+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Frescoe images from Web Gallery of Art&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4279382475733472006-8565767823128278091?l=tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/feeds/8565767823128278091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4279382475733472006&amp;postID=8565767823128278091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/8565767823128278091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/8565767823128278091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/2007/08/tbtam-does-italy-part-5.html' title='TBTAM Does Italy - Part 5'/><author><name>Margaret Polaneczky, MD (aka TBTAM)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16555722791007332247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/SXS6Qq2gJAI/AAAAAAAAGIA/51LzaRdb7ec/S220/Photo+66.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrJ47XiLc2I/AAAAAAAABrw/wiousO1b6RE/s72-c/sunflowers.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279382475733472006.post-8076480011212517583</id><published>2007-08-05T07:17:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T07:17:33.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TBTAM Does Italy - Part 4</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093572318744769138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrABCXiLcnI/AAAAAAAABp4/KziqHNny8IA/s400/synagogoe+florence.jpg" border="0" /&gt;After gorging oursleves on prosciutto and ham and scomorza, we headed out to visit Tempio Maggiore, the only Synagogue in Florence. Definitely worth the trip, and far from the tourist crowds. Moorish design, gorgeous. Security was tight, and they gave the girls shawls to cover their shoulders for the tour. Sorry they forbade cameras inside, but &lt;a href="http://www.bh.org.il/Communities/Synagogue/florence.asp"&gt;here is a web site with good pics&lt;/a&gt;. We learned the fascinating &lt;a href="http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/vjw/Florence.html"&gt;history of the Jews in Florence&lt;/a&gt; and met a nice man from Crown Heights who thought Diego was Jewish and offered him his Tallis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093576630891934370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrAE9XiLcqI/AAAAAAAABqQ/tYNuzCVXfLU/s400/oleander+Fiorenze.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Beautiful Oleander growing on a wall across from the Synagogue, and everywhere we went throughout this country. Given how oleander grows here in this hot sunny climate, I am wondering if it would do well on my rooftop, and consider sneaking some cuttings through customs, but reconsider and plan to check it out when I get home...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to the Iffizi. As with the &lt;a href="http://theblogthatatemanhattan.blogspot.com/2006/12/metropolitan-museum-by-night-and-new.html"&gt;Metropolitan &lt;/a&gt;in New York, I think the best time to visit the Iffizi is the end of the day. We got our tickets for 6:00 pm, which left us plenty of time to see the galleries, catch a gorgous sunset...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093575179192988290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrADo3iLcoI/AAAAAAAABqA/wDNrxOb4WJ4/s400/iffizi+sunset.jpg" border="0" /&gt;and close the rooftop cafe with drinks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093578735425909426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrAG33iLcrI/AAAAAAAABqY/HTHBbhou4nI/s400/rooftop+iffizi.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093578958764208834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrAHE3iLcsI/AAAAAAAABqg/C0qB7wg1PFg/s400/rooftop+iffizi+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Dinner is a pizza with anchovies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093584357538099986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrAL_HiLcxI/AAAAAAAABrI/wVM7iRijK3U/s400/pizza+firenze.jpg" border="0" /&gt;More strolling. gelato for the kids, then home to Boga Pinte.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The grafitti catches my eye tonight, and I find myself thinking that it is much more artistic here than in Rome. Or perhaps it is just that the Iffiizi has me seeing art everywhere....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093581325291188978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrAJOniLcvI/AAAAAAAABq4/X2F1JnVc--I/s400/florence+graffiti+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093582523587064578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrAKUXiLcwI/AAAAAAAABrA/1_6YDNWMd4o/s400/florence+graffiti+4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093581243686810338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrAJJ3iLcuI/AAAAAAAABqw/ksp8SGKdzkY/s400/florence+graffiti2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;  &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093581028938445522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrAI9XiLctI/AAAAAAAABqo/RTEJj0qaRgg/s400/florence+graffiti.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Tomorrow - On our own in Sienna and Vinci&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4279382475733472006-8076480011212517583?l=tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/feeds/8076480011212517583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4279382475733472006&amp;postID=8076480011212517583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/8076480011212517583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/8076480011212517583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/2007/08/tbtam-does-italy-part-4.html' title='TBTAM Does Italy - Part 4'/><author><name>Margaret Polaneczky, MD (aka TBTAM)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16555722791007332247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/SXS6Qq2gJAI/AAAAAAAAGIA/51LzaRdb7ec/S220/Photo+66.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RrABCXiLcnI/AAAAAAAABp4/KziqHNny8IA/s72-c/synagogoe+florence.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279382475733472006.post-4855638721618001743</id><published>2007-08-05T07:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T07:16:58.115-07:00</updated><title type='text'>TBTAM Does Italy - Part 3</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6ShXiLclI/AAAAAAAABpo/gRH5Cb8ZOQo/s1600-h/markato+centrale.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093169330553320018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6ShXiLclI/AAAAAAAABpo/gRH5Cb8ZOQo/s400/markato+centrale.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Mercato Centrale (Central Market) in Florence is filled with a seemingly endless array of vinegars, cheeses, meats, fruits, vegetables, all stunningly gorgeous, fresh and wonderful, in surroundings a bit prettier and a little more self-conscious that I'd expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;But I'll let the photos speak for themselves...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093155195815948674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6FqniLcYI/AAAAAAAABoE/2chjhYCJ4UA/s400/barbies+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093149779862188322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6AvXiLcSI/AAAAAAAABnU/o2a_iKq8J4U/s400/marcato+centrale+mushrooms.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093152683260080482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6DYXiLcWI/AAAAAAAABn0/x6aezpdSwEI/s400/marcato+centrale+onions.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093155960320127378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6GXHiLcZI/AAAAAAAABoM/foioZ5P55_c/s400/marcato+centrale+hare.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093171886058861154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6U2HiLcmI/AAAAAAAABpw/yfh_tXxRV6A/s400/marcato+centrale+zucchini.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093156437061497266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6Gy3iLcbI/AAAAAAAABoc/Ij2M_y559hs/s400/mercato+centrale+vinegar+tasting.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Vinegar tasting bar&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093151257330938162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6CFXiLcTI/AAAAAAAABnc/f42uTfS3liU/s400/marcato+centrale+sundried+tomatoes.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;These were the best sun dried tomatoes I have ever had. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093152408382173522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6DIXiLcVI/AAAAAAAABns/XeYdTX2dBxQ/s400/mercato+centrale+cookies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093153091281973618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6DwHiLcXI/AAAAAAAABn8/tBbQcWVEnPY/s400/marcato+centrale+meat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093156179363459490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6Gj3iLcaI/AAAAAAAABoU/e3t3dsimFkA/s400/mercato+centrale+cookies+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Here's what we made with what we bought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093162372706300402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6MMXiLcfI/AAAAAAAABo4/CiP54ZfM1mc/s400/ricotta+sandwiches.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Ricotta, arugula and sundried tomato sandwiches&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Ricotta cheese&lt;br /&gt;Sundried tomatoes&lt;br /&gt;Arugula&lt;br /&gt;Salt (only if tomatoes are not salted)&lt;br /&gt;Good bread&lt;br /&gt;Olive oil&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut bread into clices. Spread ricotta on bread. Top with tomatoes and arugula. Drizzle olive oil. Salt only if tomatoes are not salted already.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093167457947578946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6Q0XiLckI/AAAAAAAABpg/YzTN8lHBZOA/s400/figs+and+prosciutto.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Figs wrapped with Proscuitto&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Fresh figs&lt;br /&gt;Prosciutto Crudo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut figs in half. Wrap with Prosciutto. Eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093163768570671634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6NdniLchI/AAAAAAAABpI/UN8iisD4gkA/s400/scamorse.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Cooked Scamorza Cheese&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cut the scamorza cheese in half lengthwise. Place in a preheated pan for a few minutes till soft, warm and bubbly. Eat immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093165194499813938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6OwniLcjI/AAAAAAAABpY/QOqkObxbsBQ/s400/scamorza+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;When do you eat scamorza? Well, it could be a second course at dinner. Or, according to Wanja, you keep it around at all times, "And when you get home late on Sunday night and you're hungry and too tired to cook anything, then you make yourself a scamorza."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4279382475733472006-4855638721618001743?l=tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/feeds/4855638721618001743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4279382475733472006&amp;postID=4855638721618001743' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/4855638721618001743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/4855638721618001743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/2007/08/tbtam-does-italy-part-3.html' title='TBTAM Does Italy - Part 3'/><author><name>Margaret Polaneczky, MD (aka TBTAM)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16555722791007332247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/SXS6Qq2gJAI/AAAAAAAAGIA/51LzaRdb7ec/S220/Photo+66.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/Rq6ShXiLclI/AAAAAAAABpo/gRH5Cb8ZOQo/s72-c/markato+centrale.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4279382475733472006.post-909450644174592950</id><published>2007-07-30T07:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T05:24:15.814-08:00</updated><title type='text'>TBTAM Does Italy Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvJjHiLbOI/AAAAAAAABe0/UDQZeSHYKz4/s1600-h/forum.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092385408827485410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvJjHiLbOI/AAAAAAAABe0/UDQZeSHYKz4/s320/forum.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; To see Italy through the eyes of those who live there is to truly experience that country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the difference between standing in a café stranded by the lack of language and knowing that you order one way when sitting at a table and another when standing at the bar, and never cappuccino after noon. The difference between getting lost on the Autostrade and knowing that the road you are driving on took years to build because each kilometer had to be contracted separately with the Mafia family assigned to it. The difference between wandering around the Palatine Hill with a tourbook in the sweltering heat and having a picnic there. Between feeling like an outsider and belonging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so first, I want to thank our dear friends Wanja and Fabrizio for hosting us during this trip and our new friends Martina and Federico for making us feel as if we belonged in their wonderful country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now on to your visual trip through Italy, complete with a recipe or two. First stop...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ROMA&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092400217874722194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvXBHiLbZI/AAAAAAAABgM/9s9j9MUKS0c/s320/WF+Apt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Our friends live in Trastevere, which means “Across the Tiber”. Trastevere is Rome’s Left Bank, and is a vibrant neighborhood that has been gentrified from its seedier predecessor. Graffiti still abounds, but the area is safe and like New York, there are people out till the late hours. Visitors tend to stick to the same main streets, which can be very crowded at night. But just stray off the beaten path by a single block, and it is peaceful. Needless to say, we felt right at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For this one night stay we split up between Wanja’s apartment and that of their friends in Monte Verde, which is on one of Rome’s seven hills. The apartment came complete with terrace garden, great views of the city and a four flight walk up. There was an air conditioner, but we did not discover it until the next morning. Oh well, what’s another bath or two when the tubs are deep enough that the water covers your shoulders while you read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092376333561588706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvBS3iLa-I/AAAAAAAABc0/qWdA7xQIADw/s320/bathroom+Roma.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Now that we're settled, how about a walking tour through the cobblestone streets of Trastevere? (Since I am contemplating painting my living room orange, you will see a lot of orange buildings in these photos...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092386130381991154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvKNHiLbPI/AAAAAAAABe8/7wYKpWTRTgw/s320/travestere+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092390807601376562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvOdXiLbTI/AAAAAAAABfc/_gE7yLyDGZk/s320/travestere+4.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The Piazza Santa Maria Trastevere is the heart of the neighborhood, and until recently, it was where all the school kids hung out at night, till the cops had them move on to another Piazza.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092387058094927106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvLDHiLbQI/AAAAAAAABfE/6gCBKiM1vnM/s320/piazza+Santa+Maria+trastevere.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Check out the floors in the Church of Santa Maria Trastevere...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092379318563859490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvEAniLbCI/AAAAAAAABdU/QgFv6ncTisk/s320/maria+trasgtevere+floor.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Even though I no longer am a practicing Catholic, I light a candle for my Mom whenever I visit a church. Here, we also wrote a request to St Anthony to take away Mom’s post-herpetic neuralgia. We tucked our paper in near the top, hoping this would get her priority attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092380168967384130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvEyHiLbEI/AAAAAAAABdk/GwES4WjfMg0/s320/st+anthony.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Piazza Navona. They used to fill it with water and reenaact naval battles there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092380581284244562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvFKHiLbFI/AAAAAAAABds/cpCkbYJR0Xs/s320/piazza+Navona.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092395785468472690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvS_HiLbXI/AAAAAAAABf8/Sbt1cK_hyWU/s320/piazza+navona+window.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Speaking of water, there are freely flowing fountains everywhere. The Romans are very proud of their water, which rivals New York's in terms of taste. You can cup your hands under to get a drink,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092381002191039586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvFiniLbGI/AAAAAAAABd0/QicZM_GvIlY/s320/agua+roma+1.JPG" border="0" /&gt;or do as the Romans do, plug the bottom and and lean in for a sip from the top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092381229824306290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvFv3iLbHI/AAAAAAAABd8/9RyyW1CUtV8/s320/agua+roma+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt; We all share a few bites of a pizza Blanca (pizza dough without sauce), sandwiching a few slices of meat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092381594896526466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvGFHiLbII/AAAAAAAABeE/z098aYa88p0/s320/pizza+sanck+travstevere.jpg" border="0" /&gt;The gelato looks delicious,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092382157537242258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvGl3iLbJI/AAAAAAAABeM/6H2d4HVlCSQ/s320/gelato.jpg" border="0" /&gt; as does the apricot torte...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092382389465476258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvGzXiLbKI/AAAAAAAABeU/wZuJSWxIHKc/s320/apricit+torte+travestere.jpg" border="0" /&gt; But it’s too hot to eat anything else but fruit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092382831847107762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvHNHiLbLI/AAAAAAAABec/rN-aXRAqMGw/s320/watermelon.jpg" border="0" /&gt; The Pantheon was not really as crowded as this photo makes it appear. We strolled right in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092383304293510338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvHoniLbMI/AAAAAAAABek/rEttmLiBX7g/s320/pantheon+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt; The top of the Pantheon is open, but the floors are slanted so the water runs away from the center when it rains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092384077387623634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvIVniLbNI/AAAAAAAABes/6lwmkuZSIpY/s320/pantheon+3.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Wanja’s daughter’s school is across the street from the Pantheon. Can you imagine looking out your window during class and getting an eyeful of ancient Roman History every single day?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of school, Italian kids get real food at lunch. There is no institutional food. Only fresh pasta, meat, salad or veggies and fruit, home made by the school cooks. Apparently the best school food in Italy is in Modena.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back for a nap and a bath (loving that tub...), then out for dinner to Corallo, a restaurant in Centro (the center) near Piazza Navona.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092389660845108498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvNaniLbRI/AAAAAAAABfM/O3NFkqQc8Zw/s320/dinner+roma.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Tables from the restaurants flow out into the narrow cobblestone streets on these hot nights, and we eat bathed by street lamps and serenaded by passing vespas. We had pastas and a delicious fennel-orange-peach salad with shrimp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092403735452937634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvaN3iLbaI/AAAAAAAABgU/TtSM--UGMhQ/s320/fennel+salad.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Italians care very much where their food comes from, and eat it in season. They are suspicious if they are offered food that they know is out of season or not grown in the region. So, when we were offered artichokes, which are in season near Rome in June and August, our friends knew they were not local. Indeed the waiter admitted that they were from Brittany.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092410293867998642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvgLniLbbI/AAAAAAAABgc/ik7vQUtS7Yk/s320/trasteveren+ight+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;After dinner, we wandered back to Trastevere, stopping at Tre Scalini for gelato (supposedly one of the best places for gelato in Rome), and strolling along the banks of the Tiber for the Estate Romana (Roman Summer) Festival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092390232075758882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvN73iLbSI/AAAAAAAABfU/RdD_5TsYwbA/s320/tiber+at+night.jpg" border="0" /&gt; This is one of the many summer evening activities around the city for visitors and those poor Romans who haven’t yet gone to the seaside to escape the heat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5092396829145525634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvT73iLbYI/AAAAAAAABgE/qGNXY0de3mQ/s320/tiber+night+2.jpg" border="0" /&gt; What we did not do, and should have, was go to Isola Tiberina, where you can have a drink or eat while reclining Roman style on pillows or rugs on the inclines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, it’s off to Fierenze (Florence)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fennel, Orange and Peach Salad&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s a recipe we came up with and made the following night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fresh fennel&lt;br /&gt;1 Blood orange&lt;br /&gt;1 peach&lt;br /&gt;Fresh basil leaves&lt;br /&gt;Olive oil&lt;br /&gt;Salt and pepper to taste&lt;br /&gt;Pesto&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shave the fennel thinly (It should look like a thinly sliced onion). Place into a large bowl. Peel and section the orange; core and section the peach. Add both to bowl. Make sure you get any extruded juice, it serves as the “vinegar” for your salad. Scatter fresh basil on top. Add a small amount olive oil, and salt and pepper to taste. Serve with a dollop of pesto on the side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4279382475733472006-909450644174592950?l=tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/feeds/909450644174592950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4279382475733472006&amp;postID=909450644174592950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/909450644174592950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4279382475733472006/posts/default/909450644174592950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tbtamdoesitaly.blogspot.com/2007/08/tbtam-does-italy-part-1.html' title='TBTAM Does Italy Part 1'/><author><name>Margaret Polaneczky, MD (aka TBTAM)</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16555722791007332247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/SXS6Qq2gJAI/AAAAAAAAGIA/51LzaRdb7ec/S220/Photo+66.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_D8X9hATEJWI/RqvJjHiLbOI/AAAAAAAABe0/UDQZeSHYKz4/s72-c/forum.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
