What I Miss #13

Reasons Why Australia is too Far Away. Not all, but Some:

September 2012: Oktoberfest 5 year reunion in Germany

October 2012: "Friendship Retreat" with the girls

October 2012: Terra Madre/Salone del Gusto 1 year reunion with UNISG in Turino
November 2012: Thanksgiving

December 2012: Christmas with the family in Donegal

January 2013: Mum's birthday - it's a big young one. 

February 2013: New Ryan member. <  < BABY! AUNTIE!  > >

March 2013: Jess' 25th birthday in VEGAS baby VEGAS

not to mention all the birthdays, mother's day, father's day, hen parties, wedding festivities, and weekends I've already missed.

Australia. Australia. Australia. 

The good news is I will be having a summery "orphan Christmas" and treat myself to an "old fart's birthday" on the beach.

I'm going to be an auntie!!!!!

CONGRATS C & B :)

What I Miss #12

wrote a hello to dad from Noosa. 

A couple weeks later I got a hello back from Dunfanaghy :)

What I miss #11

Cheeto's.

where they belong:
on the floor, under a train seat.
ok littering is not nice, but this really
is Garbage.

I don't know why, but whenever I am anywhere other than America and someone asks me what I miss, I automatically say Cheeto's. OK, maybe my family comes to mind first, but it's not unnatural for me to think of food. It's funny though - I do really like this fluorescent snack food, but it's not like I really ate them all that much when I was in America. 

When JD and I discussed our longing over the absence of crunchy Cheeto's in Australia - definitely the crunchy ones - we went to the store, determined that we could find them. But, however, unfortunately, nevertheless, lamentably - words cannot express the disappointment over the Australian alternative - we found Bacon & Cheese Balls instead. We had both had the faux-cheeto balls before, usually in extremely large Costco-size barrels found at school functions that were just as orange-finger-staining and belly-aching-addicting, so we assumed the bacon addition would be an extra tantalising tongue teaser. Words cannot express how those previous descriptions do not match the taste. I think I might have blocked the memory out of my mind, but I am pretty sure I spit out the cheese ball right there and then without a second chew or an attempt at swallowing. I've never tasted dog food, but these Bacon & Cheese balls would equivocate to what I would assume dog food would taste like, in an artificially flavoured puffed up version. I couldn't and still can't describe it as anything else - no offence to dogs.  I refused to take another handful out of the bag let alone admit the amount of money spent on such a product. I suppose, after studying SLOW FOOD, I should know better, but then again, mum asked me what I wanted/missed from America and again, I said Cheeto's. This time jokingly, but at the same time almost not, after such a bad experience and wanting the real deal. 

And so, when mum arrived, she brought with her an open bag of Chex-Mix - which her airplane snack was my immediate late-night post-work dinner. I didn't miss Chex-Mix, or even think of it once while abroad, but the salty, familiar taste of it was comforting and welcoming. 

60% less fat?! keep munching. 60% less fat...than what?? 

Then. Then I eyed the bag of Cheeto's. And I squealed. I waited however, to open them. And when I did, the following night, it was hard to put the bag down. Luckily, I did study nutrition and SLOW FOOD and know how unhealthy they are. But they were not the Bacon & Cheese version, these were the very addicting, very tasty, very crunchy taste of America that I could say I missed. 

And for the record, this bag of Cheeto's was savoured from Perth to Alice Springs, to Uluru, to Brisbane, and finally devoured to the very last crumb, every bite indulged and appreciated, to Melbourne. 

That was my American guilty-pleasure addiction satisfied.

For now.

Until next time. 

Broccoli anyone?

What I Miss #10

I realised once I got to Australia that most of the photos I had first taken to Italy, then to Ireland had ended up in photo frames. Those must have been the good ones. The rest of them came with me to Australia. Not that they aren't good ones. But I knew I had a lot more. But over time, I received generous amounts of mail and postcards and notes from mostly my family which ended up being like photos - pictures from New York and Portsmouth and Ireland of various scenes and places visited. Each one got blue-tacked onto my wall, first in the Frankland winery, then the flat in Perth. Although I just have my backpack, my walls soon become a little bit of home, a little bit of comfort, a little bit of mine to make in this land so far away. 

 and of course my favourite sequence from one of my favourite all time days ever:

so if you want to send me some photos or postcards or mail to stick up on my new walls in my next home, let me know and I'll Gladly give you my address :) :)

I love getting mail :)

What I Miss #9

PBR's at the Press Room.

Just Kidding

Ok, well maybe a little miss.

miss it's company.

This last posting was actually quite appropriate for this day, two years ago (wow), as I think the first time we all got together in Colorno at The Pub was on St Paddy's Day 2010!  And everyone knows friendships are made over a couple Guinness, teaching others how to properly chug Irish Car Bombs, funny Italian bartenders, and free French Oysters. 

What I Miss #8

This Post is for UNISGers...

I've been meaning to post recently about a recent anniversary – I’m about a week late - the one-year mark of our graduation from UNISG. This time last year we were finishing our thesis papers, returning from our internships, reuniting in The Pub of itsy-bitsy Colorno, and preparing to say our tearful goodbye’s. Mum had arrived and we traveled, ate, and drank our way around Milan, Verona, Bologna, Modena, Osteria Francescana, and Colorno. Then all of a sudden we were in Ireland. I think, sometimes more than other things, it marks a time when I have to stop saying, "I recently graduated from..." Not so recently. It's kinda like wanting to say I'm 26, two years too late.

The year of UNISG was over and Real Life began.

Well.

A lot has happened since then. I lived in Ireland. I worked in a pub. I witnessed and participated in lambing and ewe culling. I went to Holland. My brother got married. I got a new sister in-law. We celebrated our Bucknell 5-year reunion back in the cornfields of Lewisburg, PA. I was in a considerable yet injury-free car crash. I decided to stay in America. My dad turned sixty. I worked for a farm. My friends got engaged. My friends got married. Mum and I went on a road trip. It snowed in October. I decided to move to Australia. Made the most expensive purchase of my life. Smoked hookah with my family. Moved back to Ireland. Celebrated Christmas and New Years as well as charades, pub music, and intense wind in Ireland.  I turned 28. Went to Dublin. Went to London. Cheers-ed life, friendship, and old age with Arina. Ate at adored Ottolenghi. Visited Singapore for 13 hours. Moved to Australia. Spent a month in summery Perth. Moved to the middle of nowhere 5 hours south.

Cried. Laughed. Anticipated. Realized. Expected. Lived. Repeat. My, how time passes. 

As March imminently approached, I thought back to the year in Italy, as I often do, often as in on a daily basis, and where we all are now, one year later. Many of us are back in our countries of home; many of us are making new homes in new countries. Some of us have figured out what to do with our lives with a relevant or not-so-relevant Masters degree; some of us have an idea or two thousand; and some of us are still trying to figure it all out. No matter what though, I know that we are all continuing our paths toward greatness. And I know I, and we, regardless of how caught up with it we may get, have no doubt about that greatness.

Coincidental or not given the relative time frame, I have received many inspiring emails, quotes, and texts that deepen my love and appreciation for the year abroad at UNISG in Italy. When people ask me about the course academically, I have to rationalize the "Italian" way of things and decipher the expansive level of education we had, given the length of a year and varieties of visiting worldly professors. But when I express the other side of it, once we realized how to take advantage of this so-frustrating-it’s laughable learning system, but also how beneficial it was to master life from each other outside of the classroom, that's when my face starts to glow and I could go on and on, telling story upon story.

Despite our “amusement” over the frustration we initially felt, we learned a lot within the year; looking back, it is more than we probably can comprehend. Regardless of the nutritional facts we could rattle off, the debates we could argue about today's food systems, what a wine wheel is, the descriptions that cheese ob-lig-ator-iall-y smells, the obvious facts of the existence of terroir against NYU protestations, the way the leaves of olive trees glistening in the sun, the slow-painful-ways of food technology, the adorable enjoyments of cocktail class, how to smell tinned asparagus in white wine even if you’ve never eaten such a thing, the quick identification of wafting cured meat in the air, the warmth of that-morning-milked sheep’s milk, what mussel farming looks like, describing the palate of Illy coffee, the long history of pasta, the taste of just-made cheese, the difficulties of organics and food policies, how the body feels after tasting a 3-hour-class-worth of cured meats/cheese/chocolates/wines/honeys/beers/olive oils, how to make cured meat/cheese/coffee/balsamic vinegar/sherry/olive oil/beer/butcher meat/Spanish cookies/corks/champagne/jarred red peppers/pasta, the right way to “tap that” wheel of Parmigiano, how to style and photograph food correctly, the absurd amounts of out-of-season and far-away food from ALMA, or even the way dancing on the tables at the pub is supposed to be done while serving American-Thanskgiving turkey.....despite all that, the real lessons we learned, the real memories we will keep, are from each other, like: how to properly sing karaoke on a bus, the real meaning of banana tsunami, how to dumpster dive before going on a stage, that wine isn’t made from California grapes, the fact that you won’t die or get sick from sharing a spoonful with 26 other people, the smug satisfaction of seeing 25 other cameras pointing at food on a table, how to breath without an inhaler when having an asthma attack, the importance of cooking as a class and celebrating Fourth of July and Canada Day abroad, how to determine who you’re going to marry by sticking seeds on your face, how to speak Spanish in Italy and Italian in Spain, how to win over professors by inviting them to dinner, how to survive intense Italian summer heat, and even the way dancing on the tables at the pub is supposed to be done on a Thursday afternoon. And that’s just SOME of what we learned, in and out of the UNISG classroom.

One of the first times I realized that I was too genuinely happy to take pictures (and everyone knows I love to capture moments and take laborious notes) was in Friuli, in the mountains, as we walked down the hills of the little cheese-making farm through the wild flowers. Flowers necklaced my head like a Christmas tree. Our heads in a circle trying to fit everyone in the picture as the warm northern sun squinted our eyes as we smiled. It could not be captured enough, except in our memories.

A year was enough. A year was not enough. 

Even as we (luckily) meet up post-graduation, we continue to have the same-themed talks and conversations we had when we were studying together. (studying? hmmm, that needs to be re-phrased). We had high hopes and endless aspirations, we were unstoppable, we dreamt the impossible. But for us, at those moments, it was not a dream, the world was ours, and we were going to save it. Then we part, and we go on, with the same optimistic goals, the same knowledge, the same perseverance, but without the same in-person encouragement, same I’m-with-you confidence, same unbaiting ability without each other.

“It may not seem to you this way, yet, but these steps are leading you to greatness. Just have faith in yourself. Each day is one step closer to that. You are taking big risks to live and enjoy an unconventional life; big risks = big gains. "

I have received a couple quotes from UNISG friends that I have posted, and other emails that I have forwarded to share with my family to show them that I am not the only one who has graduated with a Masters degree, spent a year in Italy hoping that it will lead me in some direction, but yet still feels a bit lost even though I am living with conviction that I will find my way. I may be a bit odd, but I am sure of myself. Sometimes, my UNISG classmates (re: friends) have similar thoughts about life and about ourselves and these lead us to follow similar paths and actions. It's absolute SYNCRONICITY. But I think, even after just one year, this shows where we came from, what we were looking for, what UNISG offered us, where it took us, where it left us, and where we are now. From these relationships made over a year and post-graduation reassurances that we are not alone, I think that UNISG left us all with a special bond, connection, and spirit that we understand in each other.  We often feel as though we have to validate this feeling to ourselves and/or to others, whether it is just thinking out-loud to prove or verify it to ourselves, or actually trying to rationalize and describe it to others. But, for us, we just get it. We get each other. There’s no attesting or justification. Regardless of how much I learned, regardless of how much it cost, regardless of the lack of textbooks, regardless of what we left behind at home to try to figure it out abroad, what makes the year in Italy so worthwhile is the friendships that I have in my life right now from that experience. It's nice to know that I am not the only one feeling as I do: post-graduation, one year later. It's nice to know that even though we may be on different paths of sorts, despite our geographical locations and mind-boggling time zones of communication, that we have each other. We get it. And when we are reunited in person, these inspirational chitchats will resume, the laughter and familiarity will fill the room, and that one year, or however long it will be next, will feel as though we are back in Colorno – in the freezing classroom of the Napolean's Maria Louisa's Reggia or drinking prosecco outside on a bench at The Pub.  

And really, let's be honest. The truth of the matter is, no matter how much we really love to really talk about food, we * sometimes * talk about other things too. Feelings. Life. Reality. Gossip.

Because when it comes down to it, it’s all about the Top Ten Quality Control.

So, what everyone needs to do, a forceful recommendation from one of the best and not just to me, but wiseful advice to everyone is: stand in the middle of an open, peaceful spot, close your eyes and just listen to your surroundings. Send a heartfelt message up to the sky, and then start running as fast as you can for a moment and jump as high as you can. It is sure to leave you smiling :) – RR

I miss you guys, and I thank you, and I love you, and I wish you all the greatness in the world. Until next time…    

March 8

It was a Thursday and winery work started at 5am to meet the night-picked Riesling grapes. Walking out of the house at 4:50am, the early moonlit morning seemed quite bright as the cloudless sky exposed it's illuminating stars - it never ceases to amaze and impress me. I knocked my head back, mouth silently gasped open, and I smiled as I realized I could appreciate being awake so early to witness such a simple sight yet of such a profound infinity. The moon was high in the sky and full. Right after I snapped the picture, I turned around just in time to see a shooting star fall above the dark shadowed line of the trees. And I thought, today is going to be a good day. Grinning in the dark, I whispered, Happy Birthday Jessypoo!

I admit. I was a bit emotional. 

Shit Australians Say.

My family sent me a package for Valentines Day. After arriving in Perth, it finally arrived in Frankland River on March 7th. Never to late for a good thing!!  It made me so happy it made me cry. I've read the three personalized cards already a couple times over. I wonder if Dad, aka my secret admirer, actually picked out the card himself - it was a goodie. Mum's was inspired by an inspirational quote (see next post). And in Jess' note, she suggested I start a new post called, Shit Australians Say. Laughing outloud, I concur. So here it is. 

What I Won't Miss About Perth.

This Bird.

This ugly boringly-black obnoxious annoyance of a speciman.

It has the most loud skrill of a cackle that makes it impossible, no matter how annoyed you are by it’s uttering noise, to not laugh at its absurdity. It will disturb you as you walk down the street. It will wake you up in the morning or prevent you from falling asleep at night - so loud, it is as if it is perched right outside your window, personally mocking you. We spent an afternoon laughing at them as they sat above us in the club house of a Perth golf club. They just sat there on the beams with their mouths wide open, drooling probably like idiots, their blank eyes unblinking, and squawking at each other. Although it could be my gift to Australia, we decided, and a personal gift of self-satisfaction to myself, if I wrote what I wanted to do to these nationally protected birds, I would probably be deported immediately.

But believe me, and I have recently learned, that there are many beautiful and fascinating birds in Australia. Penguins of course, gorgeous pelicans, ones that look like little colourful orange and brown turkeys, ones that fly across the road in front of the car with splashes of red across their wing span, others that are neon green, there are little ones that skip, black sparrows that glide, black swans which are the national bird of Australia, white cockatoos, ugly ravens that rank in the negative scale of an attractive rating, and many others I heard the names of that were pointed out to me that I cannot remember. 

I'm sure there are noisy birds in the wild countryside of Franklin, I have heard them already, but it has been hinted at that because of our remoteness, it is less likely that anyone will know if anything has happened to one of these "treasures." Guinea fowl are noisy. And edible. 

What I miss #7: Italy Revisited in New York City.

 After my cheese interview, I was craving some and had heard about this Italian food store that was in the area. As Di Palo's came into my view from across the street, I was really excited and even more excited when I stepped in and it was like being back in Italy. The store was filled with a great selection of high quality extra virgin olive oils, real balsamic vinegar, pastas and grains, jarred vegetables and sauces, counters and displays of various cheeses and antipasta dishes, and of course, huge cured meats hanging from the wall. 

 The signs indicated where the meats and cheeses were from in Italy, but the culatello one did not. So, I waited in line until I was able to get assisted by the guy who looked like he was in charge. "Where is the culatello from?" He explained to me that it was their own culatello because they are not allowed to import it from Italy yet due to US regulations. He asked me how I knew it and I explained about UNISG and said that a group from UNISG was just in last week and they were shown how they make their own mozzarella. I was like, wait, I know the tutor who was with them - Sandro! He graduated with me. So he knew all about slow food and UNISG because his brother also graduated from there. He brought me behind the counter to show me the window where they were making the mozzarella - THEY WERE MAKING CHEESE! He kept cracking jokes that I didn't catch on to fast enough (showing two different mortadellas he called male and female. He points to one with pistachios and he goes "you know why this is the male one right?" < insert my confused face, trying desperately not to seem like I didn't know anything after spending a year in Italy > "because this one has nuts." < delayed laugh > It was so fun, I felt like I was on my own stage.

 I asked him how he picked what he carries in his store because it all looked like pretty high-quality producers and he said that his brother and his son go to Italy a couple times a year and selects what they want and also have a Italian-only wine store next door and they know most of the producers - what a cool job! Even though the store was pretty busy, he took the time to talk with me - incredibly knowledgeable about the products and extremely proud of his family and their store. After he showed me a picture of his grandparents and the video of old photographs from the store and of his family, I left with my goodies absolutely delighted with what a great place, just like being back in Italy. I didn't think I'd ever make it out of Little Italy. He even said "ciao" as I left. I can't wait to go back. 

 All sorts of pasta in Little Italy. 

ciao ciao bene!

Come and visit Di Palo's Fine Foods, in the heart of Little Italy, 200 Grand Street in New York City.

M-Sat 9:00 AM- 6:30 PM

Sun 9:00 AM- 4:00 PM

Goodbye Italy, Hello Ireland.

I thought leaving Italy meant I would be able to stop playing ignorant whenever I didn't want to understand a situation. "I don't speak Italian very well" always came in very handy whenever necessary - regardless if I knew or not. I thought moving to Ireland would mean understanding everything, English signs everywhere, people understanding what naturally came out of my mouth and not having to translate every thought and sentence before speaking them out loud...um, horribly. But, as we arrived in Ireland in the Dublin airport, there were signs everywhere that were completely incomprehensible. Not even a double-major in Spanish could help translate these. Even with the pictures, they were unpronounceable. Oh well. 

what i miss #6

you know you're going to miss a place when "buona notte" comes out primarily more naturally than "goodnight."and to a non-italian friend....


...it's good to have everyone coming back to Colorno from their stages :) one week is not enough. 

what i miss #5

PJ Clarke's. Scottie just sent me this article which was on the front of the NYTimes. my favorite local new york bar and my buddy doug, written about by frank bruni. bravo.

now i want a cheeseburger with smoothered onions.

what i Miss #4

my family. this probably should have been "what i miss #1."

to be completely honest, i'm perfectly content and don't even remember what "what i miss #1" is...but...

i talk to my parents a couple times every day (although it might not be clear who i'm talking to since they have joint accounts of everything) via email, aim, video chat. despite their "busy" (yes in quotations) schedules, i would love them to come visit (remember when you asked me when i wanted you to visit and you suggested: may, june, july, august, september, october, november, and december ? hasn't happened yet!) my brother recently got engaged (congrats!) but i feel far away from helping to plan or be part of the celebrations. mother's day isn't quite the same when you can't express your love through hugs or a home-made meal but instead through a someecard and wait for mum to call internationally instead of the other way around. i love it when my sister calls me, despite the 9-hour time zone differences - i miss the easiness of texting nationally any random thought at any time of the day. i'm soo excited to go to california for her graduation in 20 days, even if it's just for one day (literally, one full day there - the rest is travel time), it's definitely going to be totally worth it to see everyone. since she told me she would literally never talk to me again if i wasn't there, i am fortunate enough to be going at all.

i haven't really felt homesick while being here - a couple times yes - but "homesickness" means more to me as i don't picture myself anywhere else. as much as i absolutely loved living in portsmouth and new york, i can't see myself jumping on a plane right now and moving back there. and as much as i've tried to hint at the fact that i might not want to move back to america, nobody really believes me or takes me seriously. europe makes me happy.
i am though, reminded of "homesickness" as i am constantly thinking that i wish i could share these experiences with my family, making mental notes in my head of places i've been to so that i can remind them to visit (for example: tell chris and beth to honeymoon in corfu, to tell my parents to buy another summer home in lake garda, they must stay at pallavicina when they visit; i want to share everything i've learned with them and for them to taste everything i've tried...) I have a little pile of things i've collected that constantly remind me that i will one day share them with my family - if they haven't expired ha. i know that they would love it all too, i know they would appreciate it as much as i do - but sometimes i wish we could just do it together.

ps this post was inspired by the latest modern family episode - family portrait. amazingly hysterical. brilliant.

what i Miss #3

half priced drinks at harpoon willy's on a spring afternoon when it rains. hehe. naaaahhhh.

what I Miss #2

falling asleep to tivo-ed family guy every night. ha! not anymore with the introduction of ch131.com. and the two episodes i watched last night included b-b-bird's the word lines! fantastic.

What I Miss #1

Sriracha. the italian food i've had so far has been scrumptious and definitely doesn't need it, but my fridge just feels empty without it.

3, 2, 1

I just got back from a cross country trip of hello's and goodbye's. My last day at Cava was a week earlier than I had anticipated, but even then I was being weaned out as they were training the kids who were going to be taking over while the restaurant staff was away on their trip to Spain. After a few days of unemployment, I flew out to California to visit my younger sister Jessica at Santa Clara University where she is enjoying her senior year. I had such a blast with her and her friends acting like the oldest yet most immature 21 year old. for four years i've been her 21 year visiting sister, so it's a good thing she's graduating b/c i couldn't handle it next year. old and creepy.

My friend Beka who moved from Portsmouth to Tahoe in November came down to pick me up and we had quite the road trip - San Francisco, Treasure Island, a detour to Napa Valley and Yountville (a surreal and beautiful place and home to French Laundry, Ad Hoc, Bouchon and Bouchon Bakery, Bottega, Hurley's...I never wanted to leave), and eventually up to Tahoe. It was gorgeous, full of stories, and so fun to see her and meet her new boyfriend. We had a gorgeous day driving around the lake. Then I was dropped off at the Reno Airport to get a flight back to Santa Clara for some more college antics. Saturday was rugby day - which clearly means an all day drink fest - which sums up to 300 keystone lights and my first and hopefully last Taco Bell
experience.

I took the redeye flight to NYC on Sunday and spent the next couple days there walking, walking everywhere and trying to see as many of my friends as possible in between their work and social schedules, however i wasn't able to see everyone I wanted to and definitely not for long enough. Nearly had a heart attack when I met up with friends for happy hour and the cheapest cocktails were $14, wine $11 and the BUD LIGHTS were $7!! We're not in Portsmouth anymore...no $2 PBRs. I love spending my money in NYC only on food. I walked from Columbus Circle to Union Square to the Greenmarket, had blue cheese & kimchi croissant and a cereal milk with cereal flakes milk shake at Momofuku Milk Bar - most interesting lunch ever - had a variety of apps and braised rabbit at Bar Stuzzichini, brussels sprouts for a morning snack from Whole Foods, a brioche and latte at Bouchon Bakery, spanish scramble and biscuits with maple butter at Clinton Street Bakery, mussels and fries at Delicatessen, had a schlew of deliciousness at Fatty Crab, love the vegetarian egg white wraps at Dishes.....aaand i wonder why i'm fat. I love new york, but this time, being back, I didn't miss it. it's a city filled with possibilities and opportunities and excitement and my friends, but they all have career paths and serious boyfriends...just not for me right now. which is good though because it made me happy to come back to Portsmouth and then move on to Italia!

more pics on the "hella wicked good" facebook album.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2087409&id=3800290