Bologna Delights

It was nice to be back in London over Christmas. I do love the city; the familiarity of it, the vitality of it and obviously the company that comes with it. Of course, I was able to enjoy the things that I had taken for granted until leaving it, like the tube and the culinary adventures that are on offer in the refreshingly cosmopolitan setting. But it was also particularly nice to learn, in turn, the various things that I have come to appreciate about Bologna. And so today's ramblings will concern just a couple of things that Life alla Bolognese from the past three months has brought to my attention. Just three points, so bear with me!

1. I would like a coffee please - to drink, not bathe in.
This one was brought to my attention when my boyfriend dropped me a text saying that he was full after meeting a friend for coffee at Starbucks. It is worth mentioning now that he is a ravenous rugby player who could eat a person of my size for tea and still be hungry. And yet he was full after a coffee. And it's no wonder; the bloody things come in buckets the size of our head. Literally.

I'm not a fan of the big coffee chains that you come across every 2 seconds, around every corner, and on every high street anyway, but when I was back in London, I popped into the Costa next to my university for a quick caffeine fix before heading to the library. I couldn't help but laugh out loud when I saw their "large" size coffee mugs. The things have two handles on each side (probably essential given the volume and thus the weight of fluid that they carry) and are more like soup bowls - in fact, it took me a while to figure out whether they actually were soup bowls or not. Of course, there are plenty of little cafes that know their coffee and their cups, dotted around London but I now know to make it a priority to enjoy gulp-sized doses of the stuff for a couple of euros in Italy while I can.

2. What's with all the beards?
Italians do love to gossip. But this is mainly done over aforementioned thimble sized cups of coffee. In other words, yes there is gossip, but once you've swallowed your espresso, and this does not take long, it's on to bigger and better topics. I couldn't help but notice that Italians are very well informed about their own country's history and culture. They have a lot to say about its politics, its economy, its art and they love their philosophy. Coffee is for gossip but over wine is where it gets interesting. The sense of despair that a lot of Italians are feeling towards their politicians and their economy is rather clearly articulated and the more wine that goes down, the more passionate they become. It rings true with older people and students alike. What makes these late night chats with the people here even better is their bluntness. They are not afraid to say what they think, nor to ask questions (about anything and everything. And yes, sometimes they can come across as ignorant or narrow-minded, but hey, at least they've got the guts to ask.) Their lack of embarrassment makes you less embarrassed to ask questions too and this, in turn, paves the way for both parties to discuss, to debate, to question, to teach, to learn and to mull over things together. Whether you remember it or not the next day is irrelevant. Just the other evening I got an education in politics over carbonara and wine. We discussed bimbos and Berlusconi (naturally) and immigration, amongst other things, and tried to grapple with ideas much bigger than ourselves. And though I was by far the most ignorant out of the lot, I enjoyed every minute of it. Bologna is particularly packed with budding philosophers; a lot of the students are a pensive, philosophical bunch (and they have the beards to go with it too).

(As a little bonus: I also learnt the word "fricchettone" which I found amusing; it's a word that describes someone that tries to come across as nonconformist, rejecting social traditions etc. but, not really knowing enough about their ideological stance, turn out to just be rebellious in a very showy, superficial way. All of that packed into one word.)

3. Cibo cibo cibo  
Food, obviously. Novel, I know.
But you've got to hand it to them: Italians know good food.
One of my favourite weekly excursions are my trips to the Mercato della Terra (which I've mentioned before in a previous post) on Saturday mornings. I take my time to check out all the stalls, the cheeses on offer, the vegetables, the meat and the fish. The market, apart from the summer time when it is every Monday night, goes on from 9.00-13.00. For a lot of people it is not only where they load up on groceries, but the perfect excuse to spend a slow Saturday morning chatting over fried, fresh fish and pork tigelle, while drinking a glass or two (or three) of wine, free of judgement, before midday. It is a hub for friends to eat and drink and inform one another of their weekly affairs and for families to start their weekend together with a good nibble. The people behind the stalls are also great; last week I bought purple broccoli, today I got an odd looking root vegetable (its name escapes me) and on every such occasion, upon asking how to best prepare it, they always have the time to run me through some recipes before sending me on my way.
Today I bumped into a couple of acquaintances that I had met during my first house-hunting trip in Bologna before I started my year abroad. We had met at this very market; one is a Brazilian comedian of a man and the other an Italian chap, also a good laugh. I had been waiting for a while to be served while they, on the other hand, had only just arrived and so in order to jump the queue, they assumed the roles of my two husbands and I that of their polyandric Japanese wife. Yup, this morning I was a polyandrist on a grocery shop with her two husbands. That's the thing, you never know who you'll bump in to and what will become of your morning here. All in all, it is a gem for any foodie (which, let's face it, is just a nice way to refer to a glutton) who enjoys good food and even better company.

Buon appetito and Happy Saturday!

Specimen: A "Foodie"

Starbucks image from here.