What Fills My Plate

An interesting article was published on Yahoo a few days ago concerning impressions of Americans on European customs.   It is always interesting to learn what people think when they encounter differences.    I am hoping  it will make a good blog post.   Actual Portion Size You Get In The Veneto Half The Size Of American  Preparing for my first  European visit (1974)I was completely unaware of my prejudices and preconceptions towards what I would find in Europe.   That summer I was schooled!  Arriving across the pond, I didn’t realize that the only people in a restaurant before 7:30 would be  Americans, or that it is not a crime against humanity for food portions to be so much smaller.   On of the BEST in Rome for pasta! yet totally GSp I had to get used to not having air conditioning in public vehicles.  I had no a clue about those strange traffic signs and the various driving regulations, or that people didn’t have eggs and bacon for breakfast, and you would not be

Friday morning I went to the city of Verona by train in order to visit the Russian Consolato to pick up our visas.  I was nervous because a few days before this my blog had received a record number of readers, 160, from Russia.....  All in one day!!!   The usual count I would get from Russia are only 2, from my two good medical doctor friends, a husband and wife who faithfully read what I write.  So this record number of 160 was a big surprise, (kind of scary) and I was not sure what to make of it.  Surely Russian visa workers were checking us out and found the blog.  The title of the blog that week contained the name Putin, so this, I was figuring, had something to do with it. How to say, Yippee, in Russian? The visit in the visa office went smoothly and I left with our visas in my backpack.  The lady in the office did not seemed surprised to hear my story of the 160 Russian readers.  I was just glad that we can proceed with our summer trip without problems. I we

I bring you the romantic Italy portrayed in the movies.  I sit in the shade of a big awning while I watch my Coffee Americano, being delivered with a lack of urgency by my charming barist .  She could step right into a movie and play the part of the girl next door.  She has the dark eyes, hidden by the now in-vogue oversized black glasses, and she is all Italian, wearing a rubber band tight pair of pants.  She has a fan club as two old men are standing at the bar, feeling like the room is spinning while oogling and making a feeble attempt to hide their reaquaintence with testosterone by discussing the weather.  view of bar from the back   Today is the reopening of my usual morning bar.  The name has been changed from Ambaradan to a Frenchy (or is it Frenchie?), Le Jolie .  Now my diddling around place has a fancy name.   This is where most every day I unload my backpack and write the blog.  I slaved here for over a year studying for the driver test.  Now my time is my own, a

I’m making my normal stop for my communal boozing of coffee  at Old Fart’s.  Locked into the corner table, my full view of the village performers is partially blocked by the smoke plume produced by  one old and partially bald fellow with a love affair for filtered cigarettes.    His bumpy red nose gives away his other love, prosecco.  As smoke clears this is what I hear… voo2 patta lei….be la  machuwee.   then a newly entered guy comments, “ Buon Giorno”, and they all answer the same.   I have no idea what voo2 patta lei….be la  machuwee means.  Then I hear … ah veii accumma ayvammi.  Veneto is a dialect spoken here. Visa Fees On Agenda Yesterday I took the train to Verona, a city near Padova, which has a University, and the famous balcony of "Romeo's" visit.  My visit was, however,  for an appointment in the Russian Consolate to apply for a visa to Russia.  Back home while filling out the forms we discovered that the Putin/Obama feud reaches down to the li