Masked Man

At first, he was afraid....

Now, there's an unsettling twinkle in those eyes.

Dissed

Seattle's Parks and Rec Department recently passed on a plan to name a green space after its Italian sister city--Perugia.

Seems Seattle residents are peeved that a jury in the Italian city has sent native daughter Amanda Knox to prison for supposedly murdering her British roommate.

Perugia's mayor was dismayed. Relations between the two cities "should not be compromised by an event that is only judicial in nature," he told Corriere della Sera.

Par-tay

As we get closer to Carnevale, a few errant fireworks go off in the middle of the night. There are little sprays of confetti around town. And the fritters are on sale in the pasticcerias. Little squares of buttery dough cut with scalloped edges and fried, the pastries are supposed to look like rags, or, alternatively, lettuce leaves....

In Lombardy, they're called Chiacchere, in Rome, Frappe, and here in Tuscany, Cenci.

Saldi!

In a country where fashion is almost religion, the after-Christmas sales start the day after Epiphany, Jan. 7, on the dot. The sconti (discounts) end, March 7, on the dot. Just in time for Easter.

Doh!

Last October, some enterprising (read: greedy) yahoo decided to take advantage while the Vasari Corridor is encased in scaffolding. Currently, it's covered in an ad for Rolex watches.

But after the bad press that followed the silverware billboard incident at Ponte Vecchio, City Hall is reconsidering placing ads on a World Heritage site.

I could have told them that.

Biting off their Noses...

City Hall is taking on one of the oldest and most popular tourist attractions in town: The San Lorenzo Market.

Virtually every tourist who visits Florence winds his or her way through the maze of stalls selling everything from 5 euro pashminas to 100 euro leather jackets. For gifts for home, it's a required stop.

Now, politicians from Palazzo Vecchio are reviving an old debate about the market. They say the majority of the vendors are foreign-born. They don't sell quality Italian handicrafts anymore, they argue. Besides, the mass of white canvas awnings detracts from the cathedral and Medici Chapel it surrounds. Some have suggested moving the vendors to an "ethnic" market on the outskirts of the center--a place where African drums and Peruvian sweaters are sold.

The vendors are resisting...

It all seems a little high in the instep to me.

Pandoro Powder

An enterprising Florentine factory worker and his girlfriend figured out a way to have their Christmas cake and eat it too:

During the holiday season, the couple substituted cocaine for the powdered sugar packets that are boxed with the traditional, star-shaped Italian confection. Then, they handed out the cakes to their clients as "gifts."

After they caught on, Police confiscated the couple's little black book of clients and 500 grams of the drug, which were hidden in the girlfriend's lingerie drawer.

All told, the creative pair sold $120,000 in cocaine during the month of December alone.

More Vino...More Bragging

Italians popped open 80 million bottles of bubbly on New Year's Eve.

More importantly, the Italian farmers association Coldiretti announced that vineyards here produced more bubbly than their competitors in France last year: 340 million bottles of spumante, compared to 260 million bottles of champagne. AND, French champagne production was down 44 percent the first half of 2009, the farmers crowed.

Apparently, this is becoming a thing...

Vino a Vino

This fall, Tuscan farmers left tons of grapes to rot on the vine. With the price of wine in decline, a good year for growing grapes did not necessarily mean a good harvest for vineyards.

Nevertheless, since Nov. 5, Italy has produced more "novello" wine than France--9 million bottles. That's gotta be good for bragging rights in this longstanding cultural/cuisinal standoff....

Bottles of Novello typically cost about 5 euro and are meant to be consumed within six months.

Meals on Wheels

A little red panel truck drives through the working class neighborhoods by the airport every Monday, honking its horn. Every half block or so, the nonnas come out in housedresses and slippers (a shocking glimpse of informality in this country where it seems every grandmother has a Valentino bag and a pair of Ferragamo shoes). The driver opens the back door, revealing plastic crates of pane Toscano and Ciabatta and sandwich rolls as the smell of yeast drifts out. Coins and bread change hands. Transaction complete, the ladies retreat back to their houses with the staff of life and the truck toots on its way.

DUI

As is often the case in European countries where vino is in the DNA and the drinking age is a scandalous 18, Italian legal standards for drunk driving are more stringent than in the moralizing, teetotaling New World.

The blood-alcohol limit in Italy is the equivalent of one glass of wine--half the amount allowed in most states, including Utah. Police set up regular checkpoints. And many bars have breathalyzer machines so patrons can check themselves before hitting the road or calling a cab.

You simply pull out a red straw and blow into the machine. It calculates on the spot, telling you if you'll be arrested and how many points will go on your license...

La Befana

The sixth of January is Epiphany, or, for the pagans among us, the Twelfth Day of Christmas--the day the kings arrived at the stable.

In Italian tradition, la Befana--a sort of Christmas witch--flies around on a broom, climbs down chimneys and delivers gifts and firewood. These days, she fills children's socks with candy.

There's some debate whether she's a counterpoint to Santa or derives from the Roman goddess Strina. A few weeks ago, I had a surprisingly lengthy discussion in the grocery store parking lot with a nice Italian man who considers Santa Clause a creation of Coca-Cola but la Befana completely authentic. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/La_Befana)

The child in our house figures it's just one more acknowledgment of his birthday.

The Eternal "Why?"

In a city where better ice cream is on every corner, this opens on the Duomo's doorstep. AND, there are Italians inside...

Dark Water

Everyone says that the Arno reaches its high point in November. Constant water monitoring--and record-keeping about centuries of floods--back that up.

But I don't believe it.

December and January are bucking science. The snow melted two weeks ago and rushed down the hillsides in a torrent of mud and logs. And New Year's Eve's deluge resulted in Class 1 rapids and a credible surfer's swell at the same spot where I took a picture of kids playing cricket two months ago.

The birds and coypu seem to be clinging to the trees--their shores and embankments well covered by whirling eddies of sludge...

Buon Anno!

Despite a steady downpour, Florentines came out in droves last night to listen to bands in the piazzas and douse each other with prosecco.

At the appointed hour, the Roman candles that punctuated the afternoon turned into a raucous percussion in the dark. (The rain-blurry photo above is of the "official" fireworks at Palazzo Pitti.) The pops continue today...

Jack penned a banner--"Buon Anno and Happy New Year!"--and leaned out from the bathroom balcony to spread his

cheer. Unfortunately, the brown cardboard made it look more like an "Out of work. Any help is appreciated" sign....