Why Does This Story Still Bother Me?

Italy is a country that is famous (infamous?) for having no rule that cannot be bent, twisted or outright broken. With sound logic and/or a sad story you can sway pretty much anyone to do pretty much anything for you, even if its not 100% by the book. It is because of this, coupled with an unhealthy love of certain foods, that I knew that some of my friends here would be amused by a few choice stories of mine and my father’s from the good old US of A, which is famous/infamous for the exact opposite.

Story Number 1: My mother and I went to one of those places in the North West where you can pick your own apples, and in exchange you pay very little for them. When we had finished we saw that they also had zucchini that were ready to be picked, and on those zucchini the biggest, most beautiful zucchini flowers we had ever seen. Now Italians love their zucchini flowers, on pasta, stuffed with mozzarella and fried, nom nom nom. We asked hey, can we buy them off you? No they said, they don’t sell them. So what do you do with them? We throw them away, they responded. So…. Can you give them to us? No. In conclusion, they were so flabbergasted by this odd request, not even knowing that zucchini flowers are edible, that they preferred throwing them away rather than giving them to us. We left with faces reminiscent of a child’s when you give them a toy to touch for five seconds and then snatch it away. 

Story Number 2: My father was living in New York back in the day when espresso was nonexsistent in the United States. Italians are very particular about their coffee, and he was dreaming of having a proper espresso at night. One day he was told that at a fancy hotel they had just bought this super fancy pants espresso machine that made real Italian coffee, and before he could finish his sentence my father was there. He saw that the machine had settings one through five and that the machine was set at five, which still made a coffee that was 3-4times what he was used to. 

Dad: Great! I want an espresso, but make mine on the “one” setting

Barista: … No, I can’t touch the machine

Dad: If you can’t touch the machine, how are you going to make the coffee?

Barista: I mean I can’t touch the setting

Dad: But… that’s what it’s there for!

Barista: I can’t touch the machine Sir.

Dad: Look, if you’re afraid of breaking the machine I’ll come behind the counter, change the setting myself, and if it breaks you can sue me and I’ll pay for it

Barista: I can’t do that Sir

Dad: Please get the manager. (To manager) can I please have my espresso on the one setting now?

Manager: No Sir.

My father wanted to jump behind the counter and slap him, but eventually was forced to leave without his coffee. I can only imagine how livid he was.

Actually I don’t have to imagine, because I have one of these little stories of my very own.

Story Number 3: I was twelve years old and very excited to be cooking for my American family. I decided to make them a pasta all’amatriciana, a typical Roman pasta that is awesome. However you need cubed bacon for it (guanciale really, but I’ll take what I can get), and as you all know bacon in the States is sold very thinly sliced. Thin slices crisp up and taste completely differently, there was no point in making it without the cubed bacon, so my grandmother and I go in search of unsliced bacon. We must have gone to six different supermarkets and finally, success! I find one with a meat counter, where I spot a young man standing in front of a piece of bacon the perfect size for me. There was no one else at the counter, I run up and say

Me: Great! Can I have that piece of bacon please?

Meat Guy: How would you like that sliced?

Me: No thanks, no need to slice it, just wrap it up for me.

Meat Guy: I can’t do that.

Me:… And why not?

Meat Guy: Because I’m supposed to sell sliced bacon

Me: Do you sell it by the slice or by the pound?

Meat Guy: By the pound

Me: Right, so what difference does it make to you if it’s sliced or not? It weighs the same! I’m offering to buy the whole piece!

Meat Guy: I have to slice it.

Me: Ugh fine! Give me four slices half an inch thick then

Meat Guy: I can’t do that

Me: AND WHY THE HELL NOT??!!

Meat Guy: My slicer doesn’t slice that thick

Me: And how thickly does it slice?

Meat Guy: about a quarter of that

Me: So why don’t you pick up that big knife there and slice it yourself?

Meat Guy: No, I have to slice it with the slicer

At this point my grandmother rushed up to me and physically pulled me away from this asshat, because I was about to jump over the counter, strangle him and grab the bacon myself. Here is this twelve year old girl arguing with an adult, trying to reason with him, and the crazy thing was she never spoke up except to inquire if the manager was around (which he wasn’t). What was worse she seemed to think it was perfectly normal for this guy to categorically refuse to sell me the bacon without slicing it first, and it was incomprehensible to me.

Telling this story I was getting agitated, and my friends were laughing hysterically partially at the story, but partially because it seemed as though, twelve years later I still hadn’t gotten over not getting my bacon. Of course I’m not still upset about the bacon (I wound up finding some unsliced Canadian bacon further on, in your face meat guy), but something about this story was definitely still bothering me. The question was, why?

I realized that it had to do with the utter lack of logic that I was butting heads with. It was not only the inability to reason and follow a logical train of thought to a seemingly obvious conclusion, but more tragically it was the fact that this pigheadedness was considered perfectly normal by others around me, in this last case my grandmother. Of course he didn’t listen to you, what do you expect? He’s not paid to think! You were asking him a huge favour, you can’t blame him for not complying.

WHAT??!! That is what still upsets me today. Why can’t normal, non-academic people think for themselves also?! Being logical is not supposed to be the rare glowing pride of a few braniac philosophers, it’s supposed to be one of the fundamental aspects of the human brain. Of course there are people everywhere who are going to be stubborn and completely illogical even in the most mundane cases, but the rest of us are supposed to think that it’s weird and call it out, not accept it as the new societal norm!

I know it still looks like I’m getting worked up over bacon, but I hope I’m making it clear that it’s not about that. It’s about arbitrary rules and people blindly accepting to follow them no matter what their heads tell them, regardless of how stupid or pointless the rule is. It’s about refusing to buy into the idea that a blind acceptance of authority is not a good trait to find in someone. It’s about not wanting anyone to think that being a sheep is admirable and the new societal norm, and I felt like this story of my twelve year old head butting into a brick wall stirred up these old emotions in me. The emotions that tell me that no, I am no longer mad at the meat guy,

Now I just feel really sorry for him.

On Racism, For Want Of A Better Word

I have mentioned before that I am something of a stranger in a strange land here, but I will recap slightly for those of you who are not Italian and do not fully understand how the country is set up here.

I am from Rome, but I am currently living in a small city near Venice. The difference between “North” and “South” (or rather, “North” and “Everyone else”) is palpable, not only because of the fact that the North is much better off economically and there are many people of the idea that they should be two separate countries. The fact of the matter is, Italy was divided into many different “countries” up until 150 years ago, when it was finally united. That is why the difference between regions is incredibly pronounced, from the accent to even very strong local dialects (many of which are literally incomprehensible to anyone not from that region) to the food to the mannerisms and culture. Travelling around Italy can in some ways be like travelling to different countries, and thus some within Italy racism definitely exists, particularly in the North. I say racism for want of a better word, because what is it really? We are all of the same “race”, so the animosity is not based on physical characteristics like skin colour. It’s not nationalism, because we are all the same nationality. Regionalism? For now we’ll call it racism, because it falls under the exact same umbrella. The fact of the matter is, in the North the feeling of resentment towards these lazy Southerners coming to steal our jobs is a common one to encounter. Not everyone of course, but I have come to realise and accept that many need not be so explicit in their racist sentiment, and it has started to weigh on me in a way I did not expect.

An example, if you please.

The other day I went for a pre-dinner drink with a couple of friends and others that work in the same building that I do. At this point I felt quite comfortable with this group, I felt I knew them well enough so I was not the silent observer in the corner, I was actively participating in the conversation. We were talking about food, I got my regular beating for not liking coffee (sacrilege, I know), and then I began pointing out the sacrilege of breaking your spaghetti before you cook it. “You can’t break your spaghetti!” I said laughingly, justifying my position by saying that, since I am from the South, spaghetti is kind of my turf. The fact is that regionally speaking, the Northerners have much more of a food culture in polenta and rice, while the South it’s pasta every day. I said that if I was making a mistake in my polenta-cooking I would trust their advice as I know they are bigger experts in that field than I am, but leave the spaghetti to me! We were laughing, we were joking around, and then one of the girls that is a regular spaghetti-breaker was perhaps getting a little embarrassed and fired back “Well, we have 80% of GDP so we can do whatever the fuck we want with our spaghetti!” Everyone laughed, one (who incidentally is the one I know best and thought was a closer friend) even said “Ha! What a great comeback! Nice one!” I, for the first time in quite a while, was speechless.

Just to give an example of what that joke is saying. Lets say that we are a group of Italians and one Indian guy, who upon finding out that we cook our basmati rice in a sea of boiling water before draining it laughingly expresses his distress and tries to explain how to cook it properly, because after all it is part of his food culture and he was raised on it. I then turn around and say “Yea, well, the day you can stop calling your country a third world country maybe I’ll listen to you about how to cook my basmati!” And everyone around the table laughs. Imagine a Southern, African American woman trying to explain the same thing about collard greens to a table of white Americans, and one of them saying “Yea, well, since we don’t have more white guys in jail than in college we can do what the fuck we want with our collard greens!” And everyone around the table laughs. Don’t know about you, but I didn’t find it very fucking funny at all.

It’s the sensation that this divide is always bubbling under the surface with them. As soon as you think you’re in, you’ve been accepted, and you open up and talk normally like you would to anyone else you consider a friend, this can crop up and shut you down. It’s like they’re thinking “We are different, and we always will be. We accept your presence and tolerate your company because you’re funny and cool and we like you, but don’t forget your place”. This girl is not a right-winger and does not truly believe all that crap about splitting the country in two, but she still hold the trump card of superiority tucked handily up her sleeve. She had nowhere to turn, no “I studied as a chef therefore….” or any sort of personal accomplishment to back up her argument, so out came the “I popped out of a vagina in the right place at the right time, so I looked around and said yup, this makes me superior to you” argument. Jokingly, but the fact that she even went there, and worse that not a single person even laughingly said “come on now! Low blow!” disappointed me immensely. No matter what I say or do or how well I might formulate any kind of argument, they can pull that out at any time and shut me down, end of conversation. Worse, this racism is so the norm that if I had protested this gross lack of argument I would have had thirteen people jump down my throat for being a touchy party-pooper.

And there is always one, at every party.

Yesterday I was at a friend’s birthday party, and one girl that now lives in Milan started talking about how there was a possibility for her to work in Rome, but she was utterly disgusted by the idea of having to move south of the river Po (not for nothing there’s a Northern saying dal Po in giù l’Italia non c’è più [from the Po down, Italy is no more]). She went on and on about how pathetic Rome is compared to Milan. She clearly had no idea that’s where I’m from, and at least this time the people around the table had the decency to look embarrassed. One even tried to interrupt her to inform her of my origins, but I stopped her. “Let her speak”, I said. I would much rather know what people really think that to have them walk on eggshells around me.

It has been a lesson learned. This is not to say that racism does not exist where I’m from, although it is usually more directed towards actual foreigners rather than people from other regions (they even have a half-slur for us, terrone, although as far as I know we don’t have one for them). However, down South you can tell if you’re not trusted by the locals. They can be polite but will always be superficial, they will treat you differently. However once you’re in, you’re in. Here I genuinely thought that we were talking normally and they were treating me like one of the gang, so when these jokes or insults or slurs come out it is unexpected, shocking and far more disappointing.

It is this racism that makes me feel like I will never find a true friend up here, because they have constructed a bridge that, when I think I have fully crossed it, someone at the end kicks me back over to my side. However, I refuse to let the fear of that bridge prevent me from trying. I know better than to assume that everyone here feels this way, so I will continue to open up and treat them all the way I would treat anyone else, even if it does leave me vulnerable to many more disappointments along the way.

To the ones that have shown their true colours, oh well. I’ll still be polite, but I wont be looking for a deep friendship, sharing my dark secrets with you or inviting you to my wedding. It’s been nice knowing you, but I do not accept your false sense of superiority, and most importantly, I refuse to respond to your “witty” racist remarks with equally clever racist comebacks on my end. I will not, ever, play that game.

A Little Lesson In: Bahian Fruits

So I mentioned in my post about Salvador that one thing that unbelievable about the region is the amazing fruit that they have, not just in deliciousness but in variety. I could never imagine that there could exist so many different kinds of fruit in one place, and apparently even people that live there their entire lives have not tasted them all. I went on a mission to taste as many as I could, and while I could never get my hands on all of them I do think I made a good dent. I wanted to give you a post on what I learned, and I'll list them in order from worst to best.

Before I offend any Brazilians here's a little disclaimer first: Many of these fruits are generally North East Brazilian fruits and not only found in Bahia, and some of them are found in the rest of Brazil, so this is not to give all the awesome fruit credit to Bahia alone.

15. Jenipapo

This was one of the first fruits I tasted, although by far the one I liked the least. It is a soft brown fruit the size of a very large fist, but soft almost like a foam ball. It is often used in the production of liquor, but you can also either make juice from the internal flesh around the seeds or eat the outer mesoderm the way it is.

It tasted like ass. Raw spongy mushroom ass. I definitely would not recommend it, and from here we move on.

14. Cacau

When I first saw this in the supermarket I thought how interesting, and like an idiot I didn't realize I was holding a cocoa pod, despite the fact I knew what they look like. I just never thought they were sold like that in the supermarket. It turns out, however, that once you manage to cut through the incredibly tough pod, it is very common to make a juice out of the white fleshy bit that covers the cocoa seeds. After that you can sit and painstakingly peel each seed, which initially are purple and taste horrible. Give them a couple of days in the sun however and they turn black and voila! Your very own pure cocoa. 

My assessment: the juice is alright, but it doesn't really taste of much. As for the seeds, if you're the kind of organic chocolate person who likes it nice and dark you'll love throwing a couple of these seeds into your milkshake or ice cream. I, on the other hand like mine nice and milky, so it wasn't really for me.

13. Mamao

Mamao, a.k.a. papaya is one of the few tropical fruits that is (relatively) easy to find in Europe, and yet I had never tasted it before going to Brazil. It is not that I was never interested, but I knew that I don't know how to choose a good one, and that if the mangoes you get over here are any indication it is very easy to get one that sucks. For this reason, having heard such good things about it and not wanting to ruin the experience I waited, and finally in Brazil I had my chance. 

Honestly I was expecting much more. It's not that it tastes bad, it's acutally quite good, it's just that it's not much. My mother would call it a "delicate" flavor. I call it nothing to get excited over, more something that fills you than something that I would ever seek out.

  12. Graviola

This little guy looks like a pear from the outside, but it turns out it's that elusive "guava" that I've heard referenced so many times but never actually seen.

As I've hinted at before, many of these fruits are used to make juices, basically by blending them with some mineral water. As is the case with this one often the juice then has to be filtered as well, as the seeds are quite hard. The juice is OK, also not out of this world but not bad either, but it really goes well when combined with others. They also make a strange dark red jam out of it which is very sweet, and more commonly you'll see a stiff slice-able variety. If you're the sweet jelly flavor type this one is definitely for you.

11. Caju'

This has to be the most interesting looking fruit so far, like a bean squashed into a very small apple. The bean-shaped part actually holds a nut that is very popular in Brazil, almost like the peanut in the US, but the fruit is also commonly eaten and used in juices. It is a little spongy, and by itself I think it tastes a little funky, but it goes very well when you're making a mixed juice, somehow lending its flavor to complement others.

  

10. Carambola

  This fruit is often used in salads and fish dishes because of the fact that it has a tangy not-too-sweet flavor. However if you allow it to ripen enough it is can be very good to eat alone, the only flavor I could ever come close to comparing it too being a nashi pear (although more in texture than aything else). It's crunchy and it's refreshing, but at the same time not sour, which for me is a big plus.

9. Caja'

Looking at them you'd think they're kumquats, but in taste they're actually the farthest thing from them. They have a very little meat to them and a very tough interior, but the little flesh they do have is bursting with flavor. They are a little on the sour side so I wouldn't eat them just the way they are (unless, unlike me you're one of those sour freaks), but I can attest to the fact that they are wonderful in a caipirinha. Caja', sugar and cachaca makes one awesome cocktail that I definitely recommend.

8. Acerola

 These little fruits are full to bursting with vitamin C, and every bit as sour as they look and then some. I don't think that even a sour fanatic can eat them by themselves as is, although they rank this high on the list because of the amazing flavor they pack in that tiny package. In fact my favorite juice mix that I invented while I was there was caju', graviola and acerola. Graviola for the sweet, caju' to mellow it out, and acerola to pack the flavor punch that strawberries can only dream of.

7. Umbu

This little green fruit, on the other hand, is not as sour as it looks. I only tried it in it's juice form, but it had a very interesting flavor. It just tasted green, if that makes any sense at all. OK, maybe it doesn't, but I can't think of any other way to describe it. I suppose it was closest to the carambola in it's tangy freshness, although I enjoyed more as much as I was intrigued by it.

6. Maracuja

Although passion fruit is another one of those tropical fruits that are found in Europe I had always seen what I later found out to be the African kind: tiny little green/purple balls that lay on the palm of your hand. Imagine my surprise then when I go to open up one of these very large yellow wrinkly things only to find the exact same passion fruit interior. 

Unfortunately not being a sour kind of person it was impossible to eat with a spoon no matter how much sugar I added, but it does make a mean juice when combined with mango as well as a fantastic cocktail.

5. Cupuacu

This is another incredibly strange looking fruit that tastes much, much better than it looks. I only had the opportunity of tasting it in ice cream form, but I definitely was not disappointed. It makes a slightly green ice cream, also quite tangy, with an almost chewy texture that I had never come across in a fruit ice cream before.

4. Mango

OK, so I already knew that mango was one of my favorite fruits, but this trip to Brazil only reconfirmed it for me. The mangoes in Brazil are unlike any mango I have ever tasted, they have many kinds and they really did blow my mind. Always sweet soft and full of amazing flavor, they were a regular feature for breakfast for me.

3. Jaca

This is probably the ugliest fruit when seen hanging from a tree (or worse split open on the side of the road) and it was almost impossible for me to imagine what it must look like inside. However once it is cleaned and packaged you see this huge bumpy woody thing contains these little yellow pods, stiff and juicy, and absolutely fabulous. It is the sweetest fruit I've ever tasted, with a flavor that was completely unexpected and not like anything I can describe. It is a little on the heavy side, and I couldn't really eat to much of it in one sitting, but that's not for lack of trying.

2. & 1. Pinha and Acai

 The next two just have to share a top spot because it would be impossible for me to have to choose between them. This one is a pinha, a strange pine cone-shaped fruit that when frozen and blended makes one of the most delicious things I have ever tasted in my entire life. Granted I was getting it from a place that made it particularly well, blending it with a little condensed milk making it a creamy, heavenly sensation.

The second is this little fruit that may look like a blueberry at first, but the flavor is the farthest thing from it. This is acai, probably one of the most iron-filled foods there is. It is shipped frozen then broken and blended, usually with a banana for creaminess (although not being a fan of banana myself I think it tastes much better with strawberry or cupuacu). It is more refreshing and less heavy than the pinha cream, and has such a particular taste that I still dream about and miss desperately. In two weeks that we were there we only went two days without eating these two, and now we are trying to find a place in Italy that might make it as well. 

I find it to be quite an experience to have so many new things to try in such a short time, and finding so many that are completely new flavors. Imagine someone never having tasted a strawberry before, or a peach, and asking you well what does it taste like? What is it similar too? Well nothing, it tastes like a strawberry! You have to try one and see for yourself. That was what it was like for almost all of these fruits, and it's exciting to me that when I go back there will be just as many more new ones to try. One thing is for sure though, when I go back the first thing I'm eating is another acai, cause I just can't stop thinking about it.

A Little Lesson: Vegetables

This post was once again inspired my a morning video brought to me by TheYoungTurks which just offended the scientist in me

Now of course the Republicans in this case don't actually think that pizza counts as a vegetable and they're just doing it for the money, that's old news and standard Republican behavior 101. This post is not meant to attack the idiocy of such a position as if I thought it was one they actually would have ever come up with or supported if there was no money involved. I bring it up because it was reminiscent of an old fight that I used to have with people in Ireland.

I've mentioned before that I lived in Ireland for five years before moving back to Italy for my PhD. One of the things that struck me most was how badly people ate without thinking twice about it or feeling sick in any way. Admittedly I was pretty spolied, in Italy we have a particularly good diet, but mostly we tend to be a quite delicate people when it comes to food that ravages the liver, so very few Italians would even be capable of eating what the average Irish student eats without feeling sick and having nightmares as a direct result. However the lack of nutritional knowledge of the average Irish person, even Irish biology students, was what struck me in this instance.

I was briefly employed by a marketing agency that had me going door to door to convince people to give to a charity for animals. After hours the whole gang headed over to the pub to grab something to eat before doing our evening round and then heading home. I was on a diet at the time, but I was starving so I began scouring the menu for something that wasn't deep fried in butter to order alongside my tea. I landed on mixed plate of vegetables. That sounds fantastic! I'll have that. What I got was two little pieces of broccoli, a scoop of mached potatoes, some boiled baby potatoes, some fries and a few rings of boiled carrots. I was disappointed but I laughed out loud all the same. Do you realize how fitting this is with the Irish stereotype? I asked. I can't believe that they're advertising a plate of potatoes as vegetables! ahahaha. To which all heads turned at the table. What are you talking about? Potatoes are vegetables! No amount of explanation would convince them otherwise. When I went back to college and told the story to my fellow biology majors, I was met with the same outrage at my suggestion that potatoes are not vegetables. All conversations went something like this:

Me: Potatoes are not vegetables
Irish: Of course they are!
Me: No, they're a starch
Irish: They grow in the ground, they're a vegetable
Me: By that rationale wheat is a vegetable too. It's not. It's a starch, just like corn
Irish: pfft well now I know you're crazy if you think corn isn't even a vegetable you're off you're head goodbye
End of conversation

So now I thought I'd give a little explanation of what is and is not a vegetable

1. Tomatoes: Fruit. Not vegetable. So there goes your entire argument Republicans

After that it gets a little trickier. In this case we are looking at the "food group" definition of a vegetable, not the kind of scientific one. Vegetable is not a scientific word, but loosely it can be defined as an edible plant or part of a plant other than a sweet fruit or seed. However this would include grains, which we all can agree doesn't constitute a vegetable in the "food group" sense.

The food groups are based on the main kinds of compounds that we need as omnivorous animals. These include:

1. Carbohydrates- main source of energy. Foods that are included in this category are rich in carbohydrates, such as grains or cereals potatoes and legumes
2. Protein - needed for building muscle and to assimilate the amino acids that our body cannot make for itself. Included here is of course meat and other animal products. Legumes also contain some of the amino acids that we need to eat, while corn contains the amino acid that legumes lack, so if you're a vegetarian you need to make sure you eat an adeguate amount of both.
3. Fruit and Vegetables- needed for the essential vitamins and many minerals that our bodies need, as well as to facilitate digestion. The difference between a fruit and a vegetable is a scientific one. A fruit is produced by a plant as one of the ways to spread its fertilized seeds. The other parts of the plant that are edible are vegetables.
4. Fats - needed for fatty acids and an extra source of energy

Obivously there is no one food that fits exclusively in any one of these categories. As seen legumes have a foot in "starch" and one in "protein". Meat contains fat and vitamins and minerals that we need to survive. Fuit contains sugar, which is basically a carbohydrate molecule cut up in to pieces. However, the category the food is placed in largely is based on which one it fits best. A steak is mostly protein, so that's where it goes. Lard is an animal product but it's mostly fat, so it goes in the fats group.
So in conclusion, here are the four non-vegetables most commonly confused with vegetables:

1. Tomatoes
2. Potatoes
3. Corn
4. Beans

I know, but they're so delicious! Too bad, you're going to have to eat some real vegetables too!

One last thing about them before I leave this rant. Of the very few veggies I saw eaten when I was in Ireland, all of the were boiled to death, or boiled to death and smothered in cheese. No wonder everyone hated eating their veggies. Boiling them causes all of those vitamins and minerals you need to leech out into the water, so there's no point eating them at all, unless you're just on a diet and are trying to fill your stomach with useless cellulose. If you actually want to eat your vitamins, try making a soup. By boiling and then blending the veggies you're drinking the water that the nutrients leeched in to, so you're getting them in your body all the same.

If you just want to make them delicious, forget the fake cheese. Steam them to keep as much good stuff in as possible, then make them the italian way: get some olive oil, garlic and a little chilli in a pan. Then ripassare in padella: get you're steamed veggies in there and flavor them up in the hot garlicy oil and salt. Very few extra calories added and a much better veggie experience :)

Wow that went on for way too long, but I needed to get that one off my chest!