Nancy, Author at Itch.world - Page 10 of 20
A three-minute escape to Italy.
Tuscany, travel, medieval village, Italy, festivals, celebrations, customs, cooking, recipes, living in Italy, moving to Italy, visiting, visit, restaurants, language
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Holiday gift inspirations: wearable history

As I described in a previous Itch, my saga to find an antique Roman coin ring has been achieved after many years of searching. But when I was thinking of special things I could share with you that would make great gifts, and easily ship outside of Italy, I decided to go back to the ring’s source and ask the owner what items he has at the moment that he particularly loves—it varies all the time as all pieces are one of a kind. The small store Serra, in Rome, mainly has beautiful china, silver, and crystal, but Alessandro (the fourth generation of the family to have the store) has a passion for history and antique coins and intaglio which he makes into jewelry. He speaks excellent English, can tell you the history of everything he sells, and the authenticity is guaranteed. And he is kindly offering Itch readers a 10% discount.

Something I learned from Alessandro while researching this article is that that making jewelry from coins and intaglio is far more ancient than I’d realized. As Alessandro wrote:

“The custom of encrusting coins to create jewelry is extremely ancient; its origins are to be found in the Greek world and the most widespread was in Rome between the first and third centuries AD. The Romans attributed a talismanic and amuletic power to the jewels thus made, giving the coin a much more complex task than that for which it was minted. Glyptics, or intaglio, are the “minute but not lesser” art of engraving precious and semi-precious stones (but also glass pastes). In Roman times they were widely used for rings, for men or women, necklaces, bracelets and earrings. The engraved stones were worked by skilled engravers — the themes of the figures were chosen by the customers or left to the aesthetic sense of the artist. Almost always the choice was of mythological or allegorical subjects. Still today there is a flourishing market of these ancient stones, which over time have been found because they were often removed and thrown away by those seeking only gold and silver, as by the Barbarians in the days of the invasions.”

Here are a few of Alessandro’s favorite things in the store at the moment. He, of course, has a much wider variety available. To purchase you can contact Alessandro directly at info@serra-roma.it. (I am passing this along because I love this jewelry … no commission.)

Silver ring with a Roman coin of a Gorgon DRACHM – NEAPOLIS (411-348 B.C.). Because of their legendary and powerful gaze that could turn one to stone, images of the Gorgons were put upon objects and buildings for protection. Reverse is Artemis. She was the Hellenic goddess of the hunt, wild animals, wilderness, childbirth, virginity and protector of young girls, bringing and relieving disease in women; she often was depicted as a huntress carrying a bow and arrows. € 670,00 + € 50,00 shipping with insurance (and don’t forget to ask for the 10% discount.)

Gilded silver earrings with original Roman coins depicting Julia Mamea and Emperor Septimius Severus. -Coin 1: Denarius_Front: IVLIA MAMAEA, draped and diademated bust right. JVLIA MAMAEA (180-235 AC). She was the nephew of the emperor Septimius Severus—guy on on the other coin. -Coin 2: Denarius_Front: SEVERVS PIVS AVG. Head right. LVCIVS SEPTIMIVS SEVERVS ( 193-211 A.D.). Born in A.D. 146 at Leptis Magna in Africa, Severus was a soldier of outstanding ability, holding a series of increasingly important commands until, at the death of Commodus, he was governor of Upper Pannonia. Severus was saluted as emperor by the troops at Carnantum. He spent much of his reign in campaigning in different parts of the Empire and also visiting many of the provinces. He died at York on February 4th, A.D. 211. € 890,00 + € 50 shipping with insurance (before 10% Itch discount.)

Gold ring with a Roman intaglio (Ist century A.D. – engraved cornelian) depicting two winged Nike facing each other. Nike is the goddess of strength, speed and victory. €2.550,00 + €50 shipping including insurance (before 10% Itch discount.)

 

Silver and leather bracelet with original Roman coin depicting Apollo. Denarius_ Front: Laureated head of Apollo. PANSA behind. Apollo is the symbol of male beauty, god of music, art, knowledge, illness resolution, archery and the sun. He is always depicted as a beautiful man with the perfect body form. Rear: C. VIBIUS C. Minerva who leads a quadriga at a gallop. Minerva was the Roman goddess of wisdom and strategic warfare and the sponsor of arts and trade. € 590,00 + € 50,00 shipping with insurance. (Before 10% discount.)

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Holiday gift inspirations from Italy: Busatti

The love affair started started when Sebastian, then age eight, shot his Nerf gun through a window at a bride-to-be preparing for her wedding day. He managed to hit Anna-Sophie in the head with a foam bullet while she was doing her hair and got one of the best dirty looks in history. The first meeting was not promising.

We had moved to Tuscany that day and into a house in the countryside for a few weeks, so that the kids could start school, until our ten-month rental in town became available.

It was the same day that the son of the family who rented us the house, Livio, was marrying a lovely woman from Germany, Anna-Sophie, who was staying with her family in the house next door. The groom’s father explained away the Nerf incident by attributing it to the DNA of my husband, John, who he believed to be a part of the US Special Forces (for those who know John this is laughable) rather than the barbaric nature of eight-year old boys. How this very funny case of mistaken identity occurred we are still not sure even seven years later.

Despite the first encounter we all became fast friends and Anna-Sophie agreed to show Sebastian the Italian ropes for the first year or so, a curriculum much helped by liberal applications of Coca Cola, almost daily lunches with the extended family, and Angry Birds games every day after school at the local cafe during “study” sessions.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that Livio is the sixth generation of a family who makes some of the highest quality, and best designed textiles in the world, called Busatti. They have stores worldwide, and are represented in high-end stores (dog whistle here) like ABC, Aero Studios, and John Derian in New York, Diptyque in Paris, Sue Fisher King in San Francisco, and Neiman Marcus.

Busatti started (in the same building as the current headquarters) in 1755 as a bit of a catch-all mercantile that shifted to cloth production in 1797 when soldiers from Napoleon’s army moved into the top floors of the store and brought an enormous, steam-driven loom to make wool into uniforms and blankets which was installed in the basement. By 1799 the Busatti family had taken back control of their store and the weaving equipment which the army left behind—it’s massive. The machines still crank away in the basement, although now driven by electricity rather than steam.

After the equipment sat dormant for several decades Mario Busatti added eight wooden looms, a warping machine, and a staff of ten in 1842 . They’ve been at it ever since.

I love that Busatti products are a perfect mix of tradition, still largely produced on punch card driven looms, and innovative designs under the capable leadership of Livio and his brother Stefano. I go in frequently to get seasonal inspiration because there is always something new to see. Plus they will special order anything you can imagine—bedding and table linens to any dimension, color, etc.

But let me cut to the chase. I can recommend some things that would make great gifts and they ship worldwide. Best of all, Anna-Sophie and Livio are giving a special discount of 20% to Itch readers through the holiday season.  Make sure to click on this link to get the discount.

Here are my three favorite things from Busatti for gifts—although your discount covers anything on the site.

I have many of these wonderful stripey dish/tea towels and they give me pleasure every time I use them.

They are 60% linen and 40% cotton, come in a wide range of colors, you can get them plain or with embroidery, and they wash beautifully because they are thread-dyed so they don’t fade. (They call this weave Melograno.) I also love the weave called Due Fragole which also comes in a wide range of beautiful colors.

About a year ago I splurged and bought a linen robe which makes me happy every morning. Mine is in this beautiful not-too-light blue and washes well—I line dry and don’t iron and it’s soft and for me, nicely wrinkled.

But the slate gray robe is also jaw-dropping to me (and several friends who have succumbed.)

Busatti has just launched Mario the Blanket in honor of Mario Busatti. I haven’t purchased it yet, but really want one. It’s not quite large enough for a bed, but would be fantastic to cuddle up with on a sofa. It’s made of an interesting mix of cotton, wool, and seaweed fibers, which are supposed to have potent antioxidant properties and looks and feels lovely.

To shop, make sure you enter through shop.busatti.com/discount/ITCH20 to get the 20% discount. They ship to the outside Italy using UPS at reasonable rates and you will be supporting a fantastic family business as well as giving a lovely gift.

(Thanks to Busatti for the wonderful photos, which are all their copyright with the exception of the video and wrinkly robe photo, which are mine.)

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Happily Ever After

I was very excited to hear the news that Carlo and Armando got married — the first same sex marriage in the 1,000 history of the village. I have been impressed by the support and openness the village has shown the gay couples who have chosen to live here but the majority have been from America or other parts of Europe. Carlo was born and bred here and I wanted to find out how a tiny Tuscan village with a largely older population feels about one of their own taking a less traditional path, so I invited Carlo for a coffee.

When I say born and bred here I am not exaggerating. Carlo actually sleeps in the same bed he was born in, in the same room, in the same house. In his teens and early twenties he dated a girl for about six years but slowly realized that his sexuality was taking him in a different direction. He moved to the US for several years, Rome after that, and also lived in Arezzo, but the whole time life in his village was calling him back. He returned in his 40s to live in the house with his mother and would go out on weekends to clubs that were gay-friendly as far away as Rome or Florence.

One evening eighteen years ago he met Armando and they have been together ever since. He and Armando started spending weekends together as Armando had a cabin the the country and both were living at home at the time. One day Carlo’s mother said “Why are you always packing your bags and going away for the weekend? If you have someone in your life I want to meet her.” Carlo admitted to being deeply in love, but with a man. Without missing a beat his mother said to bring him over for dinner so she could see what kind of a person he was. Carlo still remembers the tension of the evening, but at the end his mother was nearly as in love with Armando as he was.

Armando’s parents both died as all this was going on, and Carlo’s father had died a few years previously, so both decided to move into Carlo’s birth home with his mother. Carlo remembers how close and welcoming his mother was from the start, treating Armando like another son. All of them would even go on vacations together. When she got sick with cancer both of them took care of her during the four-year course of the disease until she passed away.

The official coming out of the couple was equally supported by the village. Carlo said that he never constructed his identity around being gay, but just who he was, loving who he loved. He said that the village treated him the same before and after Armando was on the scene, and Armando was quickly accepted by everyone as being a lovely addition to the community.

Carlo and Armando had talked about getting married for the last few years and finally, rather spur of the moment, decided to do it. (Partially because the political climate here in Italy —as in so many other places — is always on the verge of shifting more extremely to the right and they wanted to take advantage of having this right to marry.) They didn’t send out any formal invitations but there was a notice posted, as for all things official, at the comune, or City Hall. There was a huge outpouring of support and enthusiasm as the word spread and over 100 people came from far and wide to help them celebrate. The outpouring on social media was equally impressive.

After 1,000 years some things were ripe for change. And I can’t imagine a more deserving couple to initiate it.

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Halloween in Italy

My Halloween week started with a really disturbing dream involving the reappearance of my Mom who passed away three years ago. I don’t want to go into any details but in my dream she was decidedly, very certainly, unmistakably dead. And I was not pleased to have her visiting me in that state.

I was telling a friend about the dream who it turns out believes that this time of year, exactly around Halloween, is when the veil between the living and the dead is the thinnest, and that this has been known and celebrated around the world since pagan times. The Celtic Druids marked the midway point between the Fall Equinox and the Winter Solstice with their celebration, Samhain, that is an early forebear of Halloween. It coincided (at that time in history) with the Pleiades star cluster culminating at midnight, which is somehow very relevant. The spirits of the dead were thought to be the most restless and present to the living world on this special night and needed to be shepherded back to the land of rest.

This rumbling in my subconscious caused me to look at Halloween in a different light. I’ve always heard about Day of the Dead celebrations but before moving to Italy had never lived in a culture where this aspect accompanies, and overshadows, Halloween. When we first arrived seven years ago Halloween was barely a blip on the local scene. I was really worried that Sebastian would nix our move as this was the first holiday he’d celebrate in Italy, so his then eight-year old self and I dressed up in some pieced-together costumes, me carrying an arsenal of nerf-guns and armed with a supply of American Halloween candy, and set out in the mist to the deserted square to trick or treat. We were told to stick to the stores. Most shopkeepers were mystified about what we were up to but glad to receive a dolcetto Americano, an exotic treat called a miniature Snickers bar, in a kind of reverse exchange. All good-naturedly contributed something. Our favorite “treat” was a sausage from the butcher. I will never forget Sebastian’s face when the butcher handed it to him over the counter.

Much has changed in seven years. Now you commonly see carved pumpkins, there are a few activities for kids, and there’s a general festive atmosphere in towns and villages. The next major town has a Halloween disco. The grocery store features a small selection of kids’ costumes. But it’s not the big event.

The main focus is November 1st, All Saints Day, and November 2nd, the more inclusive All Souls Day, both of which are full-on holidays with most businesses closed. All the action happens at the cemeteries. Right before the holidays cars are double parked around every local cemetery (even the smallest hamlet has one) so that families can come and decorate the graves with new fake flowers, battery-operated candles, photos, and small ceramic figurines of angels and the like. (Many graves touchingly come in pairs of husbands and wives.) The supermarket display of plastic and fresh flowers dwarfs the section of costumes, and tents selling flowers are set up around the cemeteries. Traffic around our nearby cemetery is routed in a one-way direction to prevent collisions. Inside the walls of the cemetery it is a cheery, convivial scene with crowds of people of all ages talking and laughing and tending the graves. I wrote about the Italian approach to death, cemeteries, and recycling graves in last year’s Itch.

The very spiffy graves after much work by the families.

It’s a revelation for me to see the trivialized American Halloween tradition reunited with its more ancient and profound roots about death and those who have passed beyond our worlds.

It has even started to make me question my plan for eventual cremation and wondering if it wouldn’t be nice to have a little niche, right beside John, with a photo and plastic flowers and perhaps a clay figurine of Lola. That way if I do wander into the butcher, in a less than fleshy form, demanding a sausage on the night of October 31st, I will know my way back home on November 1st.

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Terme di Saturnia

It seems that at least once a week on social media I am seeing a photo of the rather otherworldly Terme di Saturnia. I wanted to see what it was really like and went during the fantastic Itch getaway to Sorano.

Just to get this out of the way, it is truly beautiful. This cascade, the Cascate del Mulino, is part of a large complex of hot springsHot, sulphurous water (99.5 degrees) is warmed by the volcano underneath and gushes from the earth at 800 liters per second, coursing down the hill into these perfect little pools. It’s free, unfenced, and always accessible.

The downside is that you do have to come prepared. There’s nowhere to change but in your car, the pools and parking can get really crowded, water shoes are a good idea as the rocks get very slippery, and there are minimal food and facilities available, so it’s all very do it yourself.

We were wimps and came and explored around the pools and then headed further towards the source to the Spa and Golf Resort Terme di Saturnia to “take the waters.” I find the thermal spa culture in Italy fascinating and was eager to compare this to my prior experience at the Terme San Giovanni, among others. People of all ages and body shapes come, very intently going back and forth between linked swimming pools of different temperatures and scooping of handfuls of white sulphur and other minerals from the bottom of the pools to slather all over their bodies. Robes and slippers around the pools are a must. The Terme di Saturnia has just moved to a “Wellness Wears White” slogan (yeah, I know) and new policy dictating that all robes and towels have to be white (which they provide for an extra fee if you don’t bring your own). It’s a very, very Italian crowd and was a fantastic afternoon.

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Postcard: Making the McDonalds

In a swirl of pre-production chaos dinner looms and I go down to the nearest butcher shop knowing I can get everything I need to make hamburgers. There are about six people in line in front of me and while I wait I grab the only package of hamburger buns on the shelf. After about five minutes it is my turn. The woman behind the counter carefully cuts off pieces of beef, from cows raised nearby, to get the right mix of lean and fat, seasons it all, puts it through the grinder, then shapes and presses patties, carefully separated by paper and wrapped. While this is happening a line of about six people grows behind me. I ask for some cheese from the big block and she asks how thinly I want it sliced. I point to the burger patties and buns and she says with a big smile “Fai il McDonalds questa sera?” (Are you making the McDonalds tonight)? I laugh back and answer “si”.

The six people in line behind me can’t contain themselves and all jump in with a rush of opinions about McDonalds. The man behind me says that McDonalds would never have beef of this quality, and that you can’t even compare the two. The woman next to him says that she has heard that the buns McDonalds uses are often several years old. (I do not point out to her that the ones I just got off the shelf had probably been there since World War II.) Someone else volunteers that they have never been. I calmly assure everyone that even though I am American I am not a fan of the chain and much prefer to make my own McDonalds at home.

There is a palpable release of tension at my admission and with a cheery round of “ciao” and “buona serata” I am on my way into the dark night.

 

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Why Sorano is one of my favorite places

I’m always on a quest to find amazing corners of Italy that aren’t widely known. Back when I was starting Itch I asked an Italian friend, one of the most curious and smart-about-Italy people I know, what were some places I had to go. He replied instantly. Pitigliano. So I went and fell in love, especially with the village of Sorano. I have mixed feelings about writing about this area of southern Tuscany, right between Orvieto and the Maremma coast, because it is so wonderful and undiscovered. But it is also too good for friends not to know about. Promise not to share.

I’ve now been twice in two months, which is a first for me. In addition to a cluster of lovely villages this area has one of the most evocative hot springs or terme in Italy, the Terme di Saturnia. It was also a major Etruscan stomping ground and has some mysterious and haunting traces of these lost people. The Etruscans lived in central Italy prior to the Romans in the 10th – 9th centuries BCE (and gave their name to Tuscany). Not much is known about them because they left only a few examples of a complex written language that has only partially been translated.

One thing they did leave behind are a set of roads in this area carved deep into the soft volcanic rock, or tufa. These underground roads have walls that tower up to 20 meters in places, and you can still see a few ancient chisel marks. There are miles of these trails which connect Pitigliano to Sorano and Sovana. Along the way they also lead to ancient necropolises. No one knows why they were built but hiking along them is memorable, especially as they two times I’ve done it I’ve only passed a couple of other people.

Because the area has such soft rock there are caves everywhere. Just outside of Sorano is Vitozza, a lost city that was inhabited from the 1200s to the 1800s. The from parking to the archeological site is along a path beside a river where you pass cave after cave, all fronted by brightly covered doors, a couple with “for sale” signs. These give way to the more ancient settlement with its ruins of two castles and a church, and over 200 caves which were used as both houses and stables for animals. You can still see niches and supports for beds carved into the walls.

Another Etruscan archeological site of the Citta’ Del Tufo complex is just outside of the one-street village of Sovana and has a cluster of large tombs with some very cool statues.

But for me one of the best things is the village of Sorano, which I much preferred to the slightly more known Pitigliano. And we found a fantastic place to stay, the Hotel Della Fortezza, in the Orsini family castle from 1200.

John and I just stayed in the tower. Yep, we had the whole tower over the drawbridge. It’s a bit rough around the edges but the cost was around 120€, including breakfast.

Both times I visited I only spent a night and felt rushed to try to see all the interesting things to do in the area. I’d suggest taking a few days. After all the hiking a visit to the famed Terme di Saturnia was needed — details next week.

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Leonardo the Loser

When I was settling my ragazzi in their various schools in England I had a chance to visit Buckingham Palace to see the Queen’s collection of Leonardo da Vinci’s drawings. Two hundred of them. They are usually kept out of site in drawers and shown to a few favored visitors, like when the Pope drops by.

I feel a bit intimate with (and possessive of) Leonardo because of the local relationship we have with him — a feeling I never thought I’d have about one of the greatest minds and artists of all time. One of the things I enjoyed the most were the maps, many of which showed details the Arno river near us, and towns I frequent, like Arezzo. In an earlier Itch I wrote about why many think that the bridge over the shoulder of the Mona Lisa is outside of Arezzo, an area he knew well.

And then there’s the Battle of Anghiari which was never finished and painted over, and is shrouded by mystery and theories. One wall of the exhibition is devoted to many studies for his most ambitious painting. (More from Itch on this.)

But what amazed me was the sheer scale of personal failure that was contained in those hundreds of drawings. He clearly had wanted to make an epic bronze equestrian statue, and he had three different commissions to do so, but none were finished. The most developed, the Sforza monument, got as far as a full scale clay model which was later destroyed when it was used for target practice by the invading French troops. The 75 tons of bronze that had been gathered was melted to make canons.

He’s famous for the failure of technique — all the experiments in materials which resulted in so many paintings literally dripping off the wall (the reason that the Battle of Anghiari was painted over.)

He got further than anyone before on understanding anatomy but never completed his treatise as his involvement in dissections was “denounced before the Pope and likewise at the hospital”. His research was finally published around 1900. One of the greatest scientists of all time had no impact on the discipline of anatomy.

The Last Supper has a door cut into it.

Designs for fantastical war machines, water clocks, and canals altering entire valleys never got beyond sketches.

A substantial part of the time he spent in the employ of the powerful seems to have been spent planning entertainment events, like masked balls, down to the costumes.

If this had of been my biography I think I might have been just a little tempted to conclude, at the end of my life, that I had largely failed. We don’t know how Leonardo thought of his career, but it is so clear looking at these drawings the sheer scale of ideas, curiosity, tenacity to understand, and genius. He experimented more, and thought bigger, than perhaps anyone else. That’s a kind of failure that should encourage us all.

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The Artist Formerly Known as Mommy

(or “And Then There Were None”)

I am ripe for a personal rebranding. This summer before both kids left for school in London I told the family to prepare to get to know someone new — The Artist Formerly Known as Mommy. The kids looked at me with a mix of annoyance, fear, fascination, and pity. “You know, like Prince,” I added. “After he became a glyph.”

I remember the moment when my current identity started. When “Nancy” became “Mommy.” I was pregnant with Donella and John and I were taking a vacation in Italy. We were eating at a very nice restaurant when I started to cry. For a moment I wasn’t at all clear why tears were running down my face as I was thrilled to be having a baby. Then I got it and managed to sputter out to John that I was sad to be saying goodbye to Nancy while I morphed into Mommy.

Now the moment has come to change course again. It’s intimidating. Such a wide open plain of possibility. Going back to the old Nancy doesn’t seem quite right, nor does remaining Mommy. Hence TAFKAM.

Then I get a series of texts from Sebastian needing IKEA-level blow-by-blow instructions about how to log onto Vueling, check in, and get his boarding pass for his flight back to Italy. And a call from Donella with the latest ups and downs of dorm life.

A friend recently told me it’s not about the “or” it’s all about the “and.” (Ironic advice as I remember all the work with did with Carly Fiorina at HP when the and/or thing was a mantra that she’d frequently center speeches around. I scoffed loudly but it is kinda true.)

So the true art for TAFKAM will be how to blend the two prior manifestations into the future in the right mix. Shedding some things while growing others. And so much around getting to the next level of Italianness.

A friend was recently reading Norah Ephron’s I Feel Bad About My Neck and shared this quote.

“The day finally comes. Your child goes off to college. You wait for the melancholy. But before it strikes—before it even has time to strike—a shocking thing happens: Your child comes right back. The academic year in American colleges seems to consist of a series of short episodes of classroom attendance interrupted by long vacations. These vacations aren’t called “vacations,” they’re called “breaks” and “reading periods.” There are colleges that even have October breaks. Who ever heard of an October break?”

Gotta go to pick up Sebastian at the airport. He starts his TWO-WEEK October break today…

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Brexit at a London grocery store

My return to Italy is postponed by a few days so I find myself in the dairy section of the Waitrose in Crouch End, London. I am not at peace with the world, to put it mildly. I’ve had a traumatic day, am feeling very shaky after having an allergic reaction to something I ate the day before, and I have exactly 16 minutes to shop for dinner before I need to be on a conference call with clients.

I am bending over looking on the bottom shelf to find lactose-free cheese, feeling dizzy, when a tiny, elderly woman, very elegantly dressed and with perfect makeup, approaches me and asks if I know the difference between evaporated and condensed milk. I tell her that I really don’t but would guess that condensed has more sugar.

She goes on to say that her only living family member is her son who now lives in Singapore and that he has been calling her almost every day demanding that she stocks up on supplies for Brexit. She says that during the war she remembers her mother hoarding condensed or evaporated milk, but she can’t remember which.

There is nothing else in her small basket. She’s looks blankly around at the packed shelves, clearly overwhelmed. Then she asks me if she needs to be this worried. I stammer that it probably doesn’t hurt because things are so unpredictable.

Then I tell her I have to go and turn to the register with a huge lump in my throat cursing myself for not being up to the challenge, untimely conference calls, and Brexit.

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