L'Aperitivo

There are certain little things I just love about italy. It's all about the details. 

Fresh panettone stuffed with Grand marnier cream, wrapped in beautiful paper...stepping into a bar for coffee and being greeting with BUONGIORNO! by strangers....driving on the autostrada during a major soccer game and cars blocking the toll booths to be able to hear a key moment in the game, (no reception under the booth) and no one caring...the list goes on. 

Paternò is famous for bar-love. Every corner in our town has a bar... or two. The bar is the center of social interaction outside the home.  People have their favorite bars, favorite baristas, favorite specialties. Some bars specialize in 'dessert', which are soft butter cookies dipped in chocolate or with added nuts or candied fruit. Some specialize in savory treats like cartucciate (puff pastry with tomato sauce, ham, cheese and olives), arancini (fried rice balls stuffed with everything from eggplant Parmesan to meat sauce to ground pistachios and cream), fried stuffed olives or mini pizzas. Some make cakes or tortes or ice cream. My favorite bar, Bar Elios, is minuscule, and makes the absolute best almond paste cookies...melt in your mouth...and in cool weather makes the raviola, a puff pastry pocket with homemade ricotta, sweetened with a bit of sugar and cinnamon or cocoa. He makes the best pistachio arancini and smoked salmon cream arancini too,.. I could brag all day about Signor Pippo and his talents. Moving on! 

The other day my brother-in-law picked me up so we could get our girls at school together and catch up. We stopped at a bar he prefers, to kill some time and grab a drink.  This bar wasn't impressive on the outside, and upon entering (after the BUONGIORNO!) I note a small gathering of people watching a tv screen. It's the Lottery crew. Watching the numbers. Two old women, a young man and a little girl. Fixed on that screen. 

We approach the bar, browse the very few offerings of pastries, and decide on just 'l'aperitivo'. We choose 'analcolico', non-alcohol. Sitting down at a tiny marble table I see the 'dessert' case. Three levels high, about 10' long, packed with trays of every dessert cookie I think I've seen. This is apparently their specialty. Giant 2'x3' wicker baskets are piled in the corner, waiting to be filled with Spumante or Prosecco, wrapped panettone and dessert cookies. And here comes the barista. 

He brings us two American style glass water glasses, filled about 2/3 up with a neon orange liquid and a slice of orange floating at the top. He brings a tray of salatini, or salty snacks, and a plate of four mini pizza bites. Not bad. Nice bonus, I'm thinking. Toasted hazelnuts, tiny spicy rice puffs, chips, peanuts and more. What a treat. It's the little things. 

The aperitivo is not sweet, not sour, it's almost bittersweet. Kind of like eating an orange peel. Strangely enjoyable. You've seen those tiny triangle shaped red bottles I'm sure. That's this. It piques the appetite, prepares the stomach for eating lunch, starts the digestive juices flowing. There's method in the madness. 

We drink, and talk, and snack, and talk. The bar fills and empties four or five times, glasses clinking and coffee saucers sliding back and forth across the marble. A young woman comes in along and the ocean of men parts to let her reach the bar, quickly down a coffee, and depart. A deaf man comes in to follow his apparently daily routine, signs to the barista and is served with a smile and a nod. More lottery crew come and crane their necks to watch the numbers. I could sit here all day. 

This week why not pick up a little pack of these Campari aperitivi at the store and serve chilled with some little snacks before dinner. Add your own little something special. 

Caffè al bar

Having time to kill in the Italian airports means coffee at the bar. Sidle up to the cashregister  and state your preference... In Naples today for me it was a caffè macchiato...espresso with a little stain of lightly steamed whole milk. 1€. I hand him a €5, slide my coins out of the change dish, which is a beautiful custom made Italian ceramic plate with the bar's name painted in royal blue with gold flourishes, along with the required receipt. Proof you have a right to that caffè.  

Now to maneuver to the bar somehow. If you're Italian, coffee drinking isn't the long sipping and chatting exercise we participate in. Your job is to produce the receipt, order your drink, drink it and leave a space for the next person. Sounds simple. It isn't.  

A spot vacates and I move in. Casually holding my receipt just above the counter level, not to seem too anxious, I wait for the barista's glance. He's wearing a traditional uniform, short sleeved white cotton dress shirt, a vest in royal blue, a red bowtie, and a royal blue hat that reminds me of the ice cream scoopers from the '50s. His eyes glance at me and he smiles from down the bar, and when he is halfway to me I mutter, "macchiato". 

He grins, swiftly grabs three stylish, tall, thin glasses with three of his fingers, runs them under the bar sink faucet and fills them halfway with water from the sink. It's a fizzy water, naturally, as we are in a volcanic area. He puts a glass before a flight attendant, a pilot, and then flips it upside down and places one in front of me without spilling a drop.  "Bella signora, vorrebbe qualcosa da mangiare oggi?" ...pretty lady, would you care for  something to eat? He smiles again, flashing those black neopolitan eyes, and starts making our espressos. 

Why the water? To clean your palate, of course! I drink mine, tasting the minerals and feeling the amazingly fine bubbles clean my mouth. By the time I'm done, so are the coffees. 

It's served in a warm cup, with the name of the coffee in the ceramic. I add one bag of sugar, it floats for a second or two and falls through. Yes it's a good coffee. I stir, then pass the back of the tiny spoon over the rim where il'l drink, to flavor the cup. Who wants to taste a ceramic cup? Then take it in, usually in three or four good sips. Done. Before I can put the cup back, my barista is back asking if it was buono... It's coffee at a bar in italy. How could it not be anything but incredible? And for me it was much more. I was 'commossa''. Moved...it was like they'd been waiting for me to come home. 

Americani!

our first l s t group is here! we are very excited. me in particular. i came to italy with l s t (let's start talking) in 1988 to vicenza for 6 weeks with friends from pepperdine and really enjoyed serving in that capacity. now here is our own long-stay l s t group. wayne, rachel, zach and erin. wonderful people. i almost wrote 'kids'...as it was noted by wayne, i think, that i went with l s t the year before he was born. so either i'm old or they're kids.
kids or not, they have a great love for the Lord and an enthusiasm that will be contagious among the people here. italians are slow to attach themselves, or open up, but once they do you are theirs, and the church has already become attached to these, yes, kids. i can't wait till sunday when all the church can meet them.

we don't have the readers we would like as of today, but there is time and the main goals are 1) to get people reading the Bible!!! and 2) to get people connected with those in our church. i'm sure that will happen. God works things the way He wants them working and as long as we make ourselves available to be worked through, it'll get done. a nice note, that when i was showing them one of the parks nearby (the villa), a boy called to me and i turned around. it was gabriele from the l s t group 2 years ago! we had lost contact with him and i was so pleased to see him and he us. perhaps God intends for him to reconnect...i hope so. be praying for him, as it seems that he is entangled in some activities he shouldn't be... but as i said, maybe this is the reason he needs to reconnect. he is such a sweet boy and i remember how he loved reading the Bible...so many questions!

what a great time to be here...i do wish we could stay longer, but as we say, 'come Dio vuole'...as the Lord wills.