Jesus Thought a Week 3: Sometimes School Rocks

Greetings from everyone’s favorite boot shaped republic, for those tuning today I bring you folks the promised supplementary update, I will share with you briefly the event’s of this weekend, which consisted of an outing with my creative writing class. First stop Todi and Pane e Vino for lunch, then an organic farm for dinner.

First off Todi is at least as beautiful as it is tiny, it a small hilltop town so the view of the near by farms is gorgeous. But that said I had an hours worth of free time, three quarters of which I spent taking pictures, and I was still able to circumnavigate half of the town, it takes me nearly as long as that to get to school from my apartment. That aside we all eventually make our way back to Pane e Vino for lunch.

And as the name would suggest the bread was good, now first round of bread was a typical white bread, good and tasty but nothing new, but the olive oil it was served with was entirely unexpected. The oil was incredibly light and had citrusy quality to it (and fuck it if critrusy isn’t a word, English is my native tongue I will abuse it as I see fit), not only that but the next round of bread actually had olive baked into it, it was so unique and pleasant I didn’t mind the wait for my food. Well the fact that the school was picking up the drink bill didn’t hurt either, and their vino sure lived up to expectations as well, the large jovial Italian man sitting with us, for reasons never clear to me, wasn’t unamusing either (yes a double negative and a made up word on a roll baby). It seemed between discussions with the handful of girls that could actually converse in some fashion in Italian he would take it upon himself to test the table’s collective Italian vocab by either holding something up or asking you to pass an item and wait for you to grab the correct object. This amusing perhaps more so since I was at the very end of the table and therefore free of any pressure to respond.

When my meal did finally come I was extraordinarily pleased with the execution of the dish, I had gotten a pasta with fresh tomato and lemon, which made for a very light tasting dish and set about destroying. I somewhere along the way I chanced nibbles a few other dishes all which were equally well received by my palate. So with stomachs content and livers in duress we load on to the bus with, it small seats and 70’s Italian pop music, and head to the farm.

Now along the bus ride we’re informed by the teach, that the restaurant from which we just came and the farm towards which we head both belong to the slow food movement. In an extreme nut shell the movement promotes eating regionally and seasonally, I think this is part brilliant and partly a crock. I agree with the concept of whenever possible buying your food from local sources and that one should take time to enjoy food, but frankly relying entirely upon regional and seasonal cuisine strikes me as a crock. Frankly not every place has regional cooking worth a damn that’s why we have ethnic food. And the technological advancements that allow people to eat vegetables out of season is a god send, because frankly in the dead of winter I might not want meat and potatoes three days in a row. Cause that’s about all there is where I’m from. Now despite what I think about their doctrine their formation is one of the most hilarious things I heard. When MickeyD was about to open up at the bottom of the Spanish Steps in Rome a group of people was so upset at this that their retaliation was to hang around in front of the store and give away penne, free pasta was their rebel against the fast food biz.

Any way when night comes around, and the noise emanating from our gullets lets us know its time for dinner and no one is left wanting. Again like at lunch we are presented with an ocean of wine and wave upon wave of food. The first of these included salami and fritters followed shortly after with small sandwiches both choices were delectable but some people who weren’t in the know didn’t pace them selves and were unprepared for the primi. As I said there was a lot of wine going about so I don’t quite remember the pasta course to good, cept it must’a been pretty good cause I tore through it like a fat kid to cake. But the meat course sweet, it was chicken wings and some sorta cut of lamb plus roasted potatoes. At this point I was starting to slow down. I mean I’m a big guy but lord I been eating for the past ninety minutes I’m not sure I can fit any….*sniff* Is that apple tart I smell, well I don’t want to be rude… WARGARBL.

Oh an after dinner wine why yes I think I would like to have taste…. Ah scholarly pursuits are such chore, but I must soldier through it. CIAO