Many of my posts here are about the oddities I find living in Italy as an American, but the reverse holds true as well. Having spent so much time in Italy, when I come back to the states, there are things that are normal to Americans, but rub me the wrong way because of my time in Italy. One of these that really gets to me is how we describe food in the states.

Italian culture truly does revolve around food. It is so important, that an Italian company really can’t get away with slick marketing terms that are misleading. That is, if something is marketed as “fresh”, it damn well better have come from the farm 15 minutes ago. But in the states, all of these terms to describe food have become meaningless. So here is my list of terms I find to describe food in the states that make me say “Are you freaking kidding me???”

Fresh
How many times have you been in a restaurant that advertises “The Freshest Ingredients”? Really? Are you treating me like I was born yesterday? I mean, everyone does it, from chain restaurants to fast food establishments. That tomato that you advertised as “Fresh” likely came from a greenhouse on another continent weeks ago. Spare me.

Home Made
How many restaurants offer home-made pie? Home made meatloaf, home made just-about-everything? So, did your chef make this at his house this morning and bring it to work? Why on earth do we respond to this?

Artisan
So I walk into some fast food restaurant and see an “Artisan” sandwich advertised. ARTISAN? To begin with, How on earth does ARTISAN apply to food? Do they have some little old man in the back with a lifetime of experience sculpting the ingredients into a work of art? I mean, fast food assembly line sandwich shops advertise “artisan” food. Please!

Hand-Crafted
Put this up there with artisan. What is “Hand Crafted Roast Beef”, anyway? How do you hand-craft that? And if you do, do chain restaurants really do it? I think not, so why use the term and treat your customers like idiots?

Hand-Cut
Again, like Hand-crafted, and used ad nauseum. So the meat in your sandwich is hand cut. Does that make it better? Really? Do you honestly hand-cut it?

Pan-Fried
I see this on menus all the time, like Pan-Fried Salmon. I have just one question: How else would you fry the salmon? In a pressure cooker? In an oven? In the sink? I don’t get it.

Cooked to Perfection
How many times do you see a description on a menu that tells us the food is cooked to perfection? How else are they supposed to cook it otherwise?

100% Real
This fist struck me on a pizza box from Papa John’s. 100% Real Cheese? Are they telling me that other Pizza uses fake cheese? That may be so, and great that theirs is real… but what is the other pizza made of? How sad is it that we have to wonder if our cheese is actually cheese!

Real Fruit Flavor
I love seeing this on juice drinks. So which it? Real Fruit? Or Real Flavor? Are you telling me that the flavor is that of REAL fruit, but it is fake? Am I supposed to get excited that it doesn’t TASTE like artificial fruit, even though it really is artificial? Or are you trying to pull one over on me, thinking I will believe you are selling me real fruit, when in fact only the flavor is supposed to taste real? Huh??? Argh!!

Natural Cut
Hello Wendy’s! Are you trying to tell me that your “Natural Cut Fries” are naturally cut? Or that the fries are natural, and you cut them?  Perhaps they are natural fries that you cut naturally? Because a quick google search will show anyone that there is very little natural about Wendy’s natural cut fries.

OK, I’m done with my rant… for now.

In our business, we meet people from all over the world. Small World stories can be expected from time to time. You know, “Hey! That person is my neighbor”, or “We went to the same school”, or “we have friends in common”. It just happens. But every once in a while, one of these things comes up that truly boggles the mind.

How on earth do I begin setting the stage for this one, anyway?

A few weeks ago, we had a reunion in New Orleans with some past guests that had been on one of our tours in Italy. One day, we put together a crawfish boil, and we put a bunch of other past guests together that lived in the area. In all, we were about 20 people, that represented 5 separate tours of ours in Soriano. Everyone bonded, and it was amazing. That was that.

The following day, I happen to notice a person that had “Liked” our Facebook page. It wasn’t a name I recognized, which is absolutely normal. But it also showed that the person had two friends in common with me. Also not strange. It was WHO we had in common that made me scratch my head.

Her name was Anne. Our common friends were “Kirby” and “Cissy”.

How I know Cissy:

In 2011, someone named “Connie” came on one of our tours in Soriano. We became friends, and later in 2011, Paola and I visited New Orleans, and went to visit Connie. We had a big dinner at a gas station turned restaurant in the middle of nowhere in Convent, LA called “Hymel’s”. While at that dinner, we also met “Cissy”, “Dennis”, “Scott”, “Rhett” and “Glynn”. The restaurant belongs to someone named “Joanne”

Dennis and Cissy are close family friends of Connie. booked a trip with us in Soriano, and came in May 2012.

Scott, who is Connie’s cousin, also booked with Glynn, Rhett and Vince. They came on a Soriano tour in September 2012.

How I know Kirby:

Kirby is my niece. What more can I say? Born and raised in Los Angeles. I can’t even imagine if she has ever even been to Louisiana, let alone this tiny little middle of the nowhere place! I’ll say now that Kirby is married to “David”, who I know is originally from Texas. Still, how on earth can Kirby and Cissy have a common friend on Facebook?

So I had to send “Anne” a message and ask how this connection existed. She wrote back, telling me that David is her son. She continued that she had grown up down the street from Cissy in Texas. When she saw photos of Cissy at the reunion, she wondered if it may have been the same place David and Kirby had been the same year.

In fact, David and Kirby came on one of our tours in Soriano, TWO MONTHS after Dennis and Cissy. It also turns out that I met Anne at David and Kirby’s wedding.

I explained to her that I knew Cissy from the year before when we had been visiting other past guests in Convent, Louisiana.

She replied, asking me who those guests were, and mentioned that she was friend’s with Joanne, telling me what a great restaurant it was.

I explained that the restaurant from the year before was Joanne’s place… and that the reunion we had done the night before was at her house. I also explained that the past guest in question was Connie.

So it turns out that she knows all of Connie’s family, as well.

Time goes by, and we have another reunion just yesterday, but this time it is in Florida. Scott, Glynn, Rhett and Henry are at THAT reunion. So we got to talking, and I told the whole story. Scott contacts his mother, and it turns out that Scott’s mother ALSO grew up on the same street as Anne and Cissy!

So of course, I contacted Anne and let her know. It also happens that we have yet another reunion happening next month, only this time it is in Texas. So I invited Anne. After all, we have got to get together and laugh about all of this, right?

She responds not only that she will be there, but David and Kirby will be in Texas visiting that day as well!

OK, long, complicated, and all… but I just had to share this small world story!

This morning as I took my daily walk to Bar Roma for my morning cup of tea and free Wi-Fi hit, I was warmly greeted as always by two of Soriano’s local characters, Franco & Enrico.

These two elderly gentlemen are only two of many locals who “hangout” at the local bars & caffés in Soriano, chatting about the weather, taking in the day to day goings on and greeting locals and strangers alike.

However, today I was surprised to get an overly excited greeting, with whispers of “vieni qui, vieni qui” (Come Here, Come Here).  As I moved closer, Franco reached into his jacket pocket and produced an envelope, I just thought he’d received a note from a long lost relative in Australia, the US or UK and he wanted me to translate it.

But when he opened the envelope and pulled out the little card with the maple leaf on it, his eyes glistened, his face beamed and his smile grew broad.  He was proudly showing me the special little card sent to him by one of the CDV guests from last year’s vacations.

Carolanne and her father, John, spent a week in Soriano, not just as your typical tourist, but embracing our little town of Soriano, it’s culture and character and it’s local characters.

Most mornings they would arrive at Bar Roma earlier than the other guests and would take their time to sit and chat with the locals in their broken Italian, the locals politely smiling and nodding and not really understanding every word, but connected by the efforts made by both to communicate.

Sitting with the locals and taking it all in was enough for Carolanne and John to start their days off in the most wonderful of ways.

Just as they started my day off today!  To have had such an enthusiastic greeting this morning and to see these two wonderful elderly gentlemen proudly showing their cards to anyone who passed by inspired me to write this quick blog post to make a point of reminding all that CDV is not just another tour company, it’s a family of locals who welcome strangers with open hearts and arms and create lasting memories and friendships.

I am so grateful to Michael and Paola and the whole CDV team to be a part of this, to be able to chat with new friends via Facebook and keep up with their lives long after their return home from Soriano is such a wonderful gift.

Thank you, Michael, Paola, Carla, Rita, Spartaco, Rocky, Pierina, Sergio, Antonio, all the local Sorianese connected to CDV and all the wonderful CDV ospiti over the past couple of years that my family and I have been privileged to be a small part of your Italian experience.

Grazie mille and we look forward to continuing to keep in touch and hope that one day we’ll see you all again back in Soriano!

Baci

Peta

When you split your life between two cultures with two languages, it is quite easy to get trapped in the wrong language from time to time.  I sometimes find myself speaking one language, then suddenly a word or phrase pops out from the other.  I don’t realize it until the person I am speaking with gets that glazed look in their eyes.  It is as though they are suddenly thinking “Did Michael just invent a word?”  ”Is he trying to be cool, throwing Euroslang into his speech?”  ”and why on earth does he keep throwing his arms around as he speaks?”

No… I don’t even realize I am doing it.  Until I see that look, and I get a little embarrassed.  The thing is, that when you are fluent enough in two languages and sufficiently integrated in multiple cultures, certain concepts are better expressed in one language than another.  You don’t actually think about what language you are speaking… you just speak.  So when I have a thought, the easiest way to express that thought is what immediately pops into my head sometimes.  There may be one word in a language that takes a complete sentence to express in another…. so something inside says “This can only be said this way”, and it just pops out.

This is my tribute to a few of these words and phrases between Italian and English.  There are so many more than aren’t coming to mind right now, so if you have others, please leave a comment and let me know!

Boh!?

Boh!?  (Bo)

This may be my favorite word in Italian, which is why it made it into the title of this article. I use this ALL THE TIME in English.  I just cannot help it!  It means “I don’t know”, but being just one little single-syllable, 3 letter word, makes it so utterly perfect.  It is as though being so short and simple, it carries a more definite meaning.  Like “I don’t know, and what kind of idiot are you that you might think I would?”

Cornuto  (Cor-Noo-Toe)

Bob is a Cornuto.  Literal translation:  Bob is horned.  Huh?  Well, what it actually means is “Bob’s wife/girlfriend/significant other is cheating on him”… all in one word: CORNUTO.  Having horns simply means that you are being cheated on, and it can be used several ways.  ”Poor Susan has horns” (She is being cheated on), “John put horns on Jane” (John is cheating on Jane).  It is also used (primarily in the south) as an offense  Cornuto!  As to say “You Cornuto, You!”.  And when you get waaay south, well… Them’s Fightin’ Words!

Uffa (ooh-fah)

I love this word, because I’m really not sure how to translate it into an English word at all!  Imagine you are bored to the point of frustration.  You know that full-exhale-sigh you make?  Maybe you finish it off saying ‘Blah’.  That entire expression can be summed up by the word ‘Uffa’, and if you really deliver the f’s in the middle (uffffffa), you are amping up how strong the feeling is.

Che Palle (Kay-Pall-Ay)

This literally translates to “What Balls”, but the meaning depends entirely on the context, such that these two little words cover quite a bit.

I’m bored: Che Palle!
You are starting to annoy me:  Che Palle!
This is redundant:  Che Palle!
This is bothering me:  Che Palle!
My fingers are starting to hurt while writing this: Che Palle!
Paola is calling me to come downstairs and do something while I am writing this: Che Palle!  :-)

It isn’t considered very nice, but not quite profane.  I would put it on par with using a word like “Damn”.  So, there is a light version of it:  Che Pizza!

Porca Troia!

Porca Miseria (Porca Mee-Sare-Eee-Ah)

For some reason, Italians seem to have some major issues with pigs that might be worth exploring with a collective national psychologist.  They have a full range of exclamations about pigs, and they range from light-hearted to stuff I should not write here.  Yes, we have the classic “You are a Pig” in English, which is to say that you are messy.  But Italians elevate the pig to near demonic status.

Porca Miseria literally translates to “Misery is a Pig”.  It is a very generic exclamation.

I lost my job, porca miseria!
I stubbed my toe, porca miseria!
I forgot to make that reservation, porca miseria!

What makes the pig so fun, is that you can modify the strength of your exclamation by changing the status of that which you are associating with the pig.  For example:

Porca Puttana! ( A Whore is a Pig ) is much stronger than Misery.
Porca Puttanaccia! ( A BAD Whore is a Pig ) is even stronger.

The whole whore thing is quite popular too!  You can use all sorts of words to say whore:  Puttana, Mignotta, Troia, etc.  All work well with “Porca”!

You can get REALLY strong and vulgar by associating the pig with God and the Virgin Mary ( Dio and Madonna ), but that is a major no-no!  However, even they get lightened up to “Porco Due” and “Porca Madosca”… More or less how we go from God to Gosh and Damn to Darn.

The point is, that while these all do translate into something English, I can’t quite explain why, but it is somehow more powerful than the english counterparts, such that I find myself using Porca Miseria all the time, even in English.

Che Fico!  (Kay Fee-Co)

Ok, this simply translates to ‘Cool’, so while it doesn’t really fit into this article, I couldn’t resist.  Why, you ask?  Because the literal translation is What a Fig!.  Can’t you just picture your friend walking up to your brand new car and saying What a fig ?  Ok, I’ll move on…

Ti Voglio Bene ( Tee-Vol-Yo Beh-Nay ) & Ti Amo (Tee-Amo)

They both mean I love you, but the Italian language has different ways of expressing love for your mother, for example, from love for your spouse. Ti Amo literally translates to “I love you”, but if you say it to your mom, well.. Ewww!  That’s sick!!!  That would be getting into Norman Bates territory.   On the other hand, Ti Voglio Bene is properly suited for mom.  It literally translates to “I wish you well”, which I know sounds an extremely weak and borderline insensitive statement for mom, but Ti Amo is reserved exclusively for very serious romantic love, period.  So you will wish well for mom, dad, brothers, sisters, kids, close friends, etc.  You will also wish well for a boyfriend/girlfriend that isn’t nearing the “pop The Question” stage.

Best put, I would say Ti Voglio Bene is like “I Love You”, and Ti Amo is like “I am IN love with you”.

Gattara (Gat-Tara)

Here is one that really isn’t in my vocabulary, but as I stumbled upon it, I couldn’t stop laughing.  You know the stereotype woman that lives alone with cats?  Yeah, you got it… She is a “Gattara”.

The English Language Gets Back with the verb TO GET

Seriously, there are countless words that don’t translate well from Italian to English, and from English into Italian.  Just ask any Italian that speaks English how they felt when they first learned the verb “To Get”.  Better yet, try it yourself!  Try to define every meaning of To Get that you can think of in 5 minutes.  While you do that, I’ll get to the end of this, since it is getting long and I need to get out of here.  If you don’t get what I am saying it, get a life and get over it.  Get it?

So any really interesting ones I missed?  let me know!

Like a fine wine or a great cigar, those who know their coffee are extremely discriminating.  I count myself among them.  Coffee is something I take very seriously.Technorati: VA2TJVJYZX67

Depending on the style of coffee, completely different factors come into play when determining the quality.  For example, if I were to rate a cup of American coffee, I would talk about the perfect blend of Arabica beans that, in my opinion, would include carefully proportioned percentages of beans from Ethiopia, Central America, and Sumatra.  

The beans would have to be roasted with a specific profile, to a certain darkness, and it would be brewed between 24 and 48 hours of roasting by a specific machine at just the right temperature.  But all of the rules that apply to American coffee mean nothing when it comes to espresso.  So I thought I would jot down what I have learned when it comes to one of Italy’s most celebrated exports.

The Standard of Quality

To begin, what does a great cup of espresso look and taste like? I’ll start by saying that it is universally accepted that the best espresso can be found in Naples, Italy.  To contrast that, I can honestly say that have have never had an even remotely acceptable espresso in the United States.

Keep it Short

You may be used to the concept of a ‘Single Shot’ or ‘Double Shot’ of espresso.  Even the most coffee-challenged Italian will tell you that what we consider to be a ‘single shot’, is far too much.  An espresso should measure in a standard espresso cup roughly 1 1/2 fingers.  While you may think that such a short cup will be too strong, the truth is that when the espresso is pulled, that is were the flavor is.  If you were to pull the cup away after 1 1/2 fingers, then place another cup in, the remainder of the coffee that comes out is extremely bitter.  In fact, the perfect espresso will be strong, but never bitter.

It Should Be Creamy and Silky

When you sip an espresso, let it roll on your tongue fo a second.  A good espresso will almost coat your taste buds as it goes down.  The flavors will be very complex and while it is very thin, it will have a very creamy texture to it.  The perfect expresso will have flavors and sensations that almost contradict one another.  A bad espresso will feel like extremely strong and bitter American coffee; it will completely lack texture and complexity.

Don’t be Fooled by Crema

We have been conditioned to believe that if the espresso has a thin layer of froth, it must be good.  While a great espresso will always have the crema, the crema does not mean it is good.  Most modern espresso machines are designed to produce crema no matter what.  It has become a marketing thing for them… Produces great crema! But the coffee may still be trash.

What You Drink it In is as important as What You Drink

Drinking espresso out of a paper or plastic cup is no different than eating a Filet Mignon with plastic utensils on a paper towel.  You may do it if you are desperate, but it certainly is never your choice.  Plastic and paper cups completely change the flavor, such that even the best espresso will taste like junk.  A ceramic cup is the most common and widely accepted container, but it is not optimal.  The perfect espresso is served in a shot glass.  Believe me, it really does make a difference.  When you are in Italy, you will almost always have your espresso served in a ceramic cup, but utter two magic words when you order, and you will not only get it in a shot glass, but you will likely get a nod of respect.  The two words are ‘Al Vetro’.  Simply say ‘Caffe Al Vetro’ and you will get it in just about any bar in Italy.

How the Perfect Espresso is Made

So far I have talked about what to look for and pitfalls to avoid, but what makes an espresso from one bar better than another?  Or why is espresso typically better in Naples than Rome?  There are several factors:

The Beans

Remember when I said that the best American coffee is made with Arabica beans from certain countries?  The rules are different for espresso.  The other type of coffee bean is called Robusta.  It is actually a very cheap bean that is considered to be very low quality.  However, while it is only present in the worst American coffees (Folgers, Maxwell House, etc.), it must be in the blend for espresso.  Without it, your espresso will be missing all of its kick.

The Roasting

Roasting a bean for espresso is a very delicate process.  What we consider a very dark roast is still too light for espresso.  But if you ever have the opportunity to watch coffee beans roast, there is a critical moment, during which the beans go from extremely dark to burned.  It is almost a split second, but the moment it goes too far, the coffee loses all of its flavor.  Because of this, it is very easy to get a bad roast.  So high quality espresso comes at a premium because of the difficulty, and low quality is very common.

The Delay

Coffee goes bad very quickly, no matter how much you freeze it, vacuum pack it, or otherwise.  A high-volume bar that gets good locally roasted coffee will always have an advantage.  The stuff you get at Starbucks has long since gone stale.

The Machine

No matter how muh you try, no matter how much you spend, and no matter how fancy your home espresso machine is, it will never make a great espresso, period.  You can spend $10,000 on a professional grade machine, and you will still get substandard espresso.  It is all about how much it is used.  A bar that pulls 1,000 espressos a day will always have an advantage over one that pulls 500, so your fancy machine that pulls one or two a day doesn’t stand a chance.  Of course water temperature and pressure are major factors that will make a huge difference for those of you that spent $10,000 on the professional machine, but you better be ready to turn it on an hour early and prime it for a while before pulling an espresso to drink

The Water

Now here is a place where a small thing you can do will make a world of difference.  I often wondered why espresso was so different from city to city in Italy.  I finally asked a professional roaster, and he told me that if he would take the same machine and the same coffee, it would always be significantly better in Naples, more bitter in Rome, less full-bodied in Florence, etc.  Then he proceeded to tell me every nuance of the water in these places.  But since I only really cared to know why Naples was so good, it all boiled down to the fact that the water in Naples is slightly effervescent and has a high mineral content.  He told me that if I were to buy naturally carbonated mineral water (not San Pellegrino), that it would be much closer to that of Naples, even in a home machine.

We did it.  In our little personal Gaggia Espresso Machine, we began to use high quality coffee with mineral water instead of tap water.   I won’t lie and say it even comes close to what I get at a typical Naples bar, but our home coffee experience suddenly got significantly better.

That said, I’m afraid the only truly perfect espresso requires a trip back to Naples.  If you go, don’t forget to have the pizza, and bring me back some Buffalo Mozzarella while you’re at it!

Our future guests often ask me what our tours are going to be like, and I try to explain the feeling of ‘family’, and how it is so different than anything else out there. Oddly, it is a difficult thing to explain, especially since our future guests are little more than strangers on a phone line at first. But it is without question the number one reason for our success. After all, we get countless of word of mouth bookings. With all that is going on in the current economic meltdown and the fact that the travel industry is suffering so terribly, we aren’t feeling it at all. In fact, we are showing a 56% INCREASE over last year because of it.

So today I think I managed to find the best way to explain that sense of family. Not by explaining what it is like during the tour, but how it has changed our lives after tours. Here it is:

I came back to the US after the 2008 season last October. Four and a half months have passed since. In that time, we have not only stayed in contact with many of our past guests, but have seen them, stayed with them, and partied with them. Here is a rundown:

In late summer, while still in Italy, we went on a cruise (we get vacations, too) with past guests.

In November, a couple of past guests came to Florida. We had a wonderful dinner together.

In December we visited some past guests in Arizona. We stayed at their home for a few days and they had a wonderful party. Attending the party were 2 other past guests of ours, as well as a couple future guests of ours.

While we were in Arizona, we also spent a wonderful evening with yet another 2 past guests.

After the time in Arizona, I went to Los Angeles for some business, and wound up having dinner with yet two more past guests.

We spent New Year’s Eve with past guests (for the second year in a row).

In early January, we spent a week down in Cancun with past guests (the same that we had just spent New Years Eve with in Florida)

Later in January, some past guests came to Orlando and we had a wonderful dinner out with them.

In February I spent a few days up in New York for business. I stayed with past guests. While there, I spent a day with another past guest, and met another two past guests for dinner. All in all, guests from the separate past tours all met one another that day .

I even just went to a baseball game a few days back with some past guests!

To add to all of that, more than 100 of my Facebook friends are past guests, and both Paola and I are constantly e-mailing and talking to past guests. The reason? So many of our past guests are difficult to see as ‘past guests’. They just become friends and family.

That’s why we do what we do the way we do it. It doesn’t feel like work for us. It just feels like we are vacationing with friends… so it turns out that way.

Last week Paola wanted to teach Alyssa, our 18 year old daughter, how to make Ceci Soup. She was saying it was so easy that she could do it blindfolded. As we laughed at her, she insisted that she could, so I ended up betting her $100 that she couldn’t. What started out as a stupid little bet turned into an evening of intense laughter and family fun.

We found a sock, blindfolded Paola and she went to task as I filmed her. While it all went quite well, she failed to consider a few potential pitfalls. For one, at our house here in Florida, we have a flat electric stove. Finding the buttons was an exercise of trial and error. Additionally, she had some trouble finding rosemary, and finally learned that Paprika and Marjoram smell more or less the same.
In the end, with almost no help at all, Paola pulls it off. More importantly, we had a week’s worth of laughter in an evening… and some great Ceci soup!

Those of you that know us from our cooking classes and tours in Italy will get a chance to see Paola do her thing at our winter home in the States.

I only hope you have as much fun watching this as we did making it. We’re even talking about make this a regular thing, turning it into a video cooking class.

“My daughter speaks perfect English. After all, she spent a month in England with a native family”. That was the quote that caused me to simply give up, and it speaks volumes about Italian culture and the denial so many of them live in.

It happened this past October. I was in a local barber shop in Soriano nel Cimino. The barber was telling me of the frustrations he had been experiencing as he tried to communicate with the American tourists that t=started coming over the past few years. They would come into the shop, looking for a haircut, but he had difficulty communicating with them. After all, he doesn’t speak a word of English, and it certainly helps to know what kind of cut your customer desires.

I certainly understood, and promptly offered to help him. I explained that I would create a list of common (and not so common) terms that a barber would need to use, along with their Italian translations. He could simply give the sheet of paper to customers and solve most of his problems. I had done similar things for local restaurants, an ice cream stand, etc.

Imagine my surprise when he declined the offer. He explained that he had been asking his daughter to do such a list for him, but she lives far away, is busy, and has had no time. He explained that his daughter had studied English in school, and was therefore fluent in English. I explained to him that while she may have excellent English skills, it was highly unlikely that she would have many barber shop terms in her vocabulary. After all, what are the chances that she learned ‘buzz cut’ or ‘mullet’ in her studies?
I continued to explain that he had an American sitting in the chair, and while his daughter may be fluent in English, it could never be at my level, since it is my mother tongue. Additionally, I was there, ready to help, and he had said that she had no time to help him.

That is when he delivered the line. His daughter speaks perfect English because she spent a month in England. At that point, it becomes clear that there is no sense in continuing, but it illustrates a reality in Italian culture.

As visitors travel Italy, they invariably notice that signs, menus, notices, etc. are translated so poorly that they are all but incomprehensible. This isn’t limited to barber shops and little local businesses. The problem exists in government, major corporations; just about anywhere you see English translations. You see it in airports, major hotels, government websites… everywhere!

It’s the pride. Why have a non-Italian do a translation when we have a daughter, or a cousin, or a friend who claims to speak perfect English? It may spill over into the belief that the native-English speaking person can’t possibly do as good a job because they may not understand the nuances of Italian. I really don’t know.

Here is another great example: Soriano nel Cimino’s tourist board has a website, of course. Have a look at their home page . If that isn’t enough, keep digging on the site and try to read it. The kicker here is that for two years I have been offering to fix it for them… for free. I even went so far as to re-translate the site for them, and e-mail them a list of the mistakes with the changes they need to make. That was more than a year ago. I have explained to them in person why “The lucky hilly position” makes no sense in English. I explained how “the ideal place where to spend” is grammatically offensive. Did they change it? Why not? Nobody will tell, but I think it might hurt someone’s pride, so it is better to live in denial.

OK, I just felt like venting. I’m done for now.

Wow… I’ve been away from Italy now for a total of 3 and a half months. That is the longest stretch in more than 2 years. When I am in the states, I’m not immersed in the wonders of Italian culture, so material for the blog is hard to come by.

Anyhow, the other day Paola and I had the great pleasure of meeting a group of Floridians with whom I converse on a very popular message forum called ‘SlowTrav’, a website dedicated to travelers that understand and appreciate the concept of soaking in a culture when you visit, rather than racing by monuments to get it all in. On this forum, Italy is by far the most popular destination and subject of discussion.

The group included people from all over Florida. We started the evening in Winter Park (Orlando’s version of Rodeo Drive) at a wine bar where we all got to know one another, then proceeded to Rocco’s Grille, and Italian restaurant run by a couple from Sicily, with Northern Italian accents (I never got the story behind that one). The food was fantastic, the people were even more fantastic, and we had some great laughs as we all got to know one another.

Among the people in the group were Cecilia, who had stayed with us in Soriano just a few months ago; Jan, who we will be seeing this summer in Italy; Doug and Judith who put it all together; Gail & Howard, who have one leg in Umbria, and one leg in the US (but I’m not allowed to tell you where in Umbria); Tom & Judy (who live everyone’s dream of spending six months a year motor-homing through Europe – Check out the blog here); Ann & Pat from Jax, ‘Cracker’ & Tommy, Jim & Wendy, Lou & Kathy, and oh boy… too many names for one evening, so if I didn’t mention you, please leave a comment on this post and yell at me!
We had a great time, and I am most certain that it the first of many gatherings of its kind.

Ask around Soriano about ‘Fosso Mulino’ (River Mill) and you will get mostly blank stares. So it is no surprise that after all of these years I had no idea that it existed. Very few people do.

One day I was out with my friend (and our contractor) Andrea D’Alessio. He asked me if I had ever been to the waterfalls. My immediate answer was YES! There is a place in Soriano with some beautiful waterfalls that few know about, and I had been there. In fact, years ago I was telling Paola about them, and she didn’t believe me until I showed her.

Anyhow, Andrea didn’t believe that I had been to ‘The waterfalls’, so he asked me to describe them. As I did, he laughed and simply explained that there were other, more breathtaking, waterfalls in Soriano. So he took me. He explained that not only was this a beautiful fork of the Tiber with awesome waterfalls, but there were the ruins of a 13th century Olive Mill. Cool!

We drove just past the Viterbo-Orte Superstrada, right at the Soriano-Bomarzo exit, and hung a left. We drove down a road which is well known as a hangout for some extremely vile looking prostitutes (another story there) and parked along a little dirt road. After exiting the car, we went down a small trail into what appeared to be complete nothingness.

At one point, I noticed beneath my feet there was some ancient concrete road, which was ribbed. Andrea explained that this was the path the mules used to cart the olives down, and the oil up.

Next I found myself in a tunnel of sorts, created by massive rocks around me, and extending about 200 feet down the hill. All the while, this ancient road ran beneath my feet.
After exiting the tunnel, immediately to my right was the river. As I walked toward it, I was struck by an absolutely beautiful set of waterfalls as I saw the water that had literally carved its passage through this ancient volcanic rock over millions of years. To say it was stunning would be an understatement.

We walked around as I cursed my lack of a spare battery for my camera. It had a little juice left in it, so I took what video I could. How could I never have known about this place?
As we crossed back to our entry point, there was an old structure in ruin. Andrea told me to look to my feet. There, sitting in the middle of this little forest was an ancient olive mill wheel. We then entered the structure, and a few more wheels were just lying there haphazardly. Wow! What a great experience to see all of this in such an untouched state.

Such was my morning visit to what I now know of as ‘Fosso Mulino’. You won’t find it in any tour books, and you won’t find any ‘professional’ guides that can show it to you. It is just one of those hidden treasures, like Corviano, that you just have to be with the right person to see.

I’m pretty sure I will make this a tour stop with my groups that are into nature and hiking.