Birdsong in the Kitchen
Next to the kitchen’s French doors hung a cage large enough for several uccelli or songbirds, gorging on grains and figs or singing their full-throated calls. Continue reading Birdsong in the Kitchen
Category: Memoir (fiction/non-fiction)
A Tavola: Breakfast in Firenze
Every morning around 7:00 in casa Chellini, Teresa the all-purpose donna, housemaid, and scullion would knock on our bedroom door, ask “Si puo?”which meant, “May I come in?” and after hearing one of us answer, would enter bearing a wooden tray always set with the same objects: several thin slices of stale bread or dry toast, two small slabs of butter, a tiny pot of jam, two coffee cups and saucers, and a small pot of bitter coffee next to a little sugar dish,two tiny spoons, and a small pitcher of milk. Continue reading A Tavola: Breakfast in Firenze
In Casa Vivante, or a First Stay in Tuscany
I was nineteen years-old, far from all that was familiar, and immersed in a new language I’d only begun to study seriously a year earlier. I’ve been musing lately about those first six weeks outside Siena Continue reading In Casa Vivante, or a First Stay in Tuscany
The Tea That Saved Me… Sort Of
As I raise a warm mug to my lips, steam wafts over its rim and carries the citrusy scent of chamomile tea to my nose, a scent never failing to remind me of a very bad day. Decades ago, I was a student on junior year abroad in Florence, Italy. Enrolled in a class on the history of the Italian language I was supposed to attend at least twice a week, I thought at the time I had better things to do than sit in a dark, dank classroom in an old University of Florence building in Piazza San Marco. … Continue reading The Tea That Saved Me… Sort Of
Autumn: Paris to Firenze (Florence)
It was autumn in Europe. I was in Paris. No chestnuts were in blossom. No holiday tables sat under the trees. The sky was overcast, and I hurried through drizzle without an umbrella. I’d taken a break from my … Continue reading Autumn: Paris to Firenze (Florence)
A Close Encounter of the Italian Kind
Marie and I, newly arrived in Florence, Italy, were strolling on Borgo Ognissanti and turned the corner to use public toilets at the Excelsior Hotel. Home was still a mile away and we’d had too much coffee at the … Continue reading A Close Encounter of the Italian Kind
It All Went Wrong
(A Less Than Idyllic Day in the Italian Countryside) The first blow to my youthful naïveté fell in Tuscany, a week shy of our group’s transferring from Siena to Firenze (“Florence”), Italy. We were 14 college juniors, young women about … Continue reading It All Went Wrong
“Vachement chouette” or “Cowly Owl”
“Vachement chouette,” a common expression for wonder and pleasant surprise, in the streets, in cafes, well, almost everywhere in Paris. Continue reading “Vachement chouette” or “Cowly Owl”
Embarrassment and Other Growth Experiences
“It’s the opportunity of a lifetime; you should apply,” said my Italian language instructor during my sophomore year of college. She was referring to the “year abroad” experience. I was a French major then and hoped to join a woman’s … Continue reading Embarrassment and Other Growth Experiences
Dancing in the Kitchen
Some of the most endearing characters on Saturday Night Live! in the late seventies and into the eighties were Gilda Radner’s creations. My favorite was Judy Miller and her ‘showtime.’ Dressed in her GSA Brownie uniform, Gilda/Judy hosted and performed some of her ‘shows’ in the privacy of her own pink frilly bedroom. She crashed into closet doors, leaped on the bed, rolled around, and ran through a dizzying series of story lines until she landed, exhausted on the floor. The performances amounted to what appeared to be a great catharsis or at least an escape from a too real … Continue reading Dancing in the Kitchen
Susan Bass Marcus Writes 