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Sunday, August 18, 2013

Wrong Place

It’s decided, I was born in the right time, wrong place.  I should have been a European.  Specifically, Italian born and raised. Espresso and dessert for breakfast, wine and 2-3 hour lunches,  wine and 4-5 hour dinners. The no problem attitude. A impeccable taste in style. If smoking wasn’t totally unhealthy for you, I would probably be a smoker because I’m a fidgeter and you might as well look cool if you’re going to fidget. 

The leather and the fashion, the history and art, the love of life and living passionately, generously, positively and for each other.  Not for work, status or money but for people and for life.

Oh god the food. The pasta, pizza, gelato, caffe.  That’s all I ate for 3 weeks and I still lost 6 pounds.  Mostly because we walked everywhere, sweat through everything but also because so little of their food is processed that it’s real whole food. 

Maybe this sounds weird but I liked being around people that I looked like.  The dark hair, olive skin, high cheek bones, and childbearing hips. I very clearly personify the Italian body type. 

I’ve been home for 6 weeks now.  I’ve settled back into most of my American ways.  I sit a desk, I’m stressed out to the point where I have shakes and heart palpitations, I work stupid amounts of hours, drive more than I walk, and most upsetting I can feel myself emotionally closing off.  I no longer think about what time it might be in Rome and wonder if he’ll call.  I’m still in love with love but maybe not showing it as much as I had or hoped I would continue to.

However, since being home I have done EXTENSIVE research on Seattle’s best Italian coffee AND Seattle’s best Italian restaurants.   Here’s how they stack up:
Macrina Bakery - great bakery, ok espresso.  I accidentally stop here on the end of my runs.  This is not a new practice.
Le Reve - Incredible (French) bakery, icky espresso

Café Senso Unico - mediocre pastries, but excellent coffee and real Italian barista/shop owner and real Italians talking. It’s where the Italians hang out.   

Caffé Umbria - pretty good French pastries for a local French Pasterie and stellar espresso. They knock it out of the park.  It’s so good I run 3.3 miles here and walk 3.3 miles home afterward. 


Restaurants: I’ve also hit up a couple Italian restaurant but I level-set my expectations knowing full well nothing can compare.  It has yet to.

Agrodolce - A cute little place in Fremont.  We sipped on Rose and dined on delicious plates.  It was good, not quite Italian good. 

The Pink Door - A Seattle institution approaching near real Italian quality food.  This place won major points for having Limoncello from Sorrento (where we had spent a week).  We never paid $8 for in Italy but I couldn't say no.  Oh, the tiramisu wasn't bad.
While eating out isn't sustainable or really that desirable, I've imported a love of caprese salad. For someone who doesn't like tomatoes, I sure can put it away.  It's what I eat about 5/7 nights a week.  I stock up on a good olive or rosemary bread, mozzarella, I've got my own basil plant, roma tomatoes, and some salami just to add to the mix.  Add some quality olives, a glass of pino and I'm the happiest camper.   The key here is quality ingredients.  
Oh, eff it, I'm just moving to Rome.


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