The Belmont Bloggetin
Sunday, November 23, 2003
Recipes for Italians away from home - Spaghetti alla Carbonara.
This is a fairly simple Italian dish that sports a funny story regarding its origin. Its name refers to the secret organization of the Carbonari (literally: coal miners), a group of subsersives aiming to overthrow the Austrian occupation of Italy in the XIX century. They communicated using secret codes who could have been mistaken for innocent peasants' talk - the simplicity of this recipe reflects their working class heritage.
Ingredients for 4 people:
-one package of long pasta (spaghetti, linguine, fettuccine) - please refrain from buying any of that cheap US made poop. Stick to imported Italian brands like Barilla and De Cecco
-1/4 pound of diced bacon
-3 egg yolks
-milk cream
-a fistful of grated pecorino romano (made in Italy) cheese
-black peepercorn
-chopped onion
As soon as the water gets to a boil, pour the pasta in and sautée the onion and the bacon in a large pan with extra virgin olive oil. You need to time this procedure so that as when the pasta is ready (firm, not mushy) the ingredients in the pan are not burned yet. Have the egg yolks battered with the milk cream and the cheese ready at hand.
Pour the pasta (as dry as you can to avoid the water and oil to sizzle around) into the pan with the bacon and onions, add the egg batter and toss it sharply so that the eggs do not cook completely.
Serve right away seasoning with ground black peppercorn.
Saturday, November 22, 2003
An apology to the reviewer
It looks like I haven't been posting much in this blog, and – to be honest - I really haven't. What happened is that I opened a new one on an Italian server - one that could allow me to post links, polls, pictures, and receive direct comments on my posts. It was also linked to my friends's own blogs on that server, and since the majority of my readers have always been Italia, I decided to write mostly italian entries on that one.
What I'm going to do to reache the dreaded 1200 words review goal is re-post some of those thoughts yonder right here, adapted to the language and the different setting. Afterwards, this place will be shut down and all activity will be confined on my splinder.it blog.
I hope you can an understand the situation and be merciful in your evaluation of my posts.
Wednesday, November 12, 2003
November...and it pours
Here it is, another typical (for what I know) Tennessee-weather show-off. Lunchtime, and I'm walking around with my sleeves rolled up, almost uncomfortably warm in my polo shirt - 5 o'clock and rain it is, hailing down from the Heavens above like a merciless flood.
In a few seconds I had to put on my raincoat, trying frantically to cover my saddle bag and the laptop inside it.
But I guess this rain may come for a good end. A day like this one needs some serious diluting. After the news I heard from Nassiryah, with the first Italian casualties in the Iraqi war, I can definetely use some rinsing myself. I need the stains of blood to be washed away from my skin, I need the stench of burned flesh to subside to the pleasant ozone smell of the warm, damp, moisty rain.
And it may seem crude, but the war has never felt as real as now. It hurts to much I don't even want to question the legitimacy and the causes: what's done cannot be undone, and our whys won't bring the dead back. And even though I sincerely doubt it, I hope those fellow countrymen that lost their lives 2000 kilometres from home are in a better place now.
Friday, November 07, 2003
Why?
Sometimes I'm perplexed at why some people had to leave us this early. Maybe I should even say pissed off. Or uspet. Or, perhaps, just simply sad.
I'm into a huge Queen period recently. I've always been a Queen fan, but in the past few weeks I would have been ready to bet both of my loved hands that there's never been a more artistically talented band to walk the rock scenes. Not even the Beatles. No sire.
While I'm ready to admit that Queen's early- to mid- 80's discography doesn't stand out as incredibly well-conceived, their first five albums can easily sweep away ANYTHING else both musically and lyrically from the same period. Same is true for their two 90's productions - Freddie Mercury's last bijoux.
And so, while I'm reading through these beautiful, heartfelt lyrics:
I am forever searching high and low
But why does ev'ryone tell me no
Neptune of the seas an answer for me please
The lily of the valley doesn't know
I lie in wait with open eyes
I carry on thru' stormy skies
I follow ev'ry course my kingdom for a horse
But each time I grow old
Serpent of the Nile relieve me for a while
And cast me from your spell and let me go
Messenger from seven seas has flown
To tell the king of Rhye he's lost his throne
Wars will never cease
Is there time enough for peace?
The lily of the valley doesn't know
I wonder why Freddie Mercury did have to leave us. I wonder why there's no such thing as an override program to undo disease and prevent such unquestionable artistic geniuses from departing.
Similar naive questions have no answer - but still they ring in in my brain in a tone of mockery.
Yet I know he wouldn't want us to sit on his grave and mourn. I'll let his voice lull me with the tales of the mythical kingdom of Rhye, I'll dance to his melancholic mitteleuropean love waltzes, I'll bang my head to his energetic rock grooves.
Moreso, I will try to add a bit of Mercury's influence into my own playing and composing. A tip of the hat, nothing more than that. But when the hearstrings vibrate, even simple things work wonders.
Brisk!
Well, November surely hit now. It's cold, overcast, gloomy, and completely lovable. I'd say adorable. What feels better than putting on your favourite high-neck sweater, snug yourself in your raincoat and just stride through the ruthless fury of the elements with your eyes staring at the barren soil in front of your marching feet? Tropical isle anyone? Naaah!
I guess I must have some strayed drops of Nordic blood in my veins. Whenever somebody shivers, I roll up my sleeves. Well, ok, maybe I'm not the cool Berserk Warrior I'm picturing myself to be, but still it feels like I'm perfectly at ease in this less than colorful weather. Weird.
I said weird because on the other hand I completely and thoroughly enjoyed the glimpse of Indian summer that warmed up most of October and part of last week. I guess all in all I'm just weatherophrenic and I should just shut my face and go on to another of the few topics I wanted to discuss tonight.
Tuesday, October 28, 2003
Sunday, October 26, 2003
It's incredible how a day can change from shitty to glorious, just as you turn the page on a book.
Little pieces of unexpected news, they can warm your heart more than the occasional sunray sneaking through these stern November clouds, arrived just a few days early (they must have missed my company, I deem).
And so, all the gray and the cold and the damp and the nostalgia and the freaking heartbreak, it just melts into an orgy of colors, and warmth, and coziness, and you feel like you're home, and you're happy again.
Anche se non ci possiamo abbracciare, e piangere dalla gioia, come fratelli.
Cazzo, sono contento. Mi manchi come l'aria, vorrei davvero essere li', a dividere questo momento come abbiamo diviso la pioggia battente quella lontana sera d'Agosto - ma la sai una cosa? forse, un pochino, ci sono.
Ascolta attentamente, e sentirai quelle note familiari nella memoria del tuo cuore. Oggi, piu' che mai, sono le tue.
Anche se non ti posso abbracciare.
Sunday, October 19, 2003
Autumn Leaves
Freely interpreted and changed by myself
The falling leaves drift by the window
The autumn leaves of red and gold
bullpoop. This is no Maine.
Leaves in Tennessee just die
I see your faces, the summer days
The sunburned hands we used to hold
Three young men, one beautiful girl
jumping from the cliffs
in the sea of our fathers
Since I went away the days grew long
And soon I'll hear old winter's song
...dreaming of a White Christmas...
I already hear winter songs!
But I miss you most of all, unique friends
When autumn leaves start to fall
Wait. Maybe it is Maine.
There's a lovely maple tree losing its red leaves
out of my window.
And I know leaves are falling back home
too.
Da dee dee dum
Da dee dee dum dee
Da dee dee dum
Da dee dee da.
Fall Break, come and gone...
...and a handful of ashes are all that remains.
Not really!
This has been a most peculiar break. I spent the first two days in complete relaxation, true to my intent of re-charging the batteries for the second half of the semester. What I failed to do was getting an headstart on a couple of massive assignments...but we all know how I love to work under pressure (do we, really?)
Then, on Saturday, the fireworks went off. I had an internet friend and his wife come and meet me from Huntsville, AL. The guy works at the NASA space center and is a wonderful guitar player in his free time (I love how he seems to write evry single song lyric of his @ meetings!). I did my best at the stove for my guests and pulled off a very nice specimen of fine Italian cuisine. After dinner, we just sat down and traded songs for a couple of hours - and it was the most enjoyable of times.
With the early Sunday devoted to following my soccer team's match, having lunch with my guests and biding them goodbye, the day has gone along smoothly and without much work getting done. I still think I should have spent some more time working, but, what the heck, you don't have a break every week...
