Posts by Angie:
Uncle Salvatore – part two
October 19th, 2009A ministerial Fiat 130 limousine came to a screeching halt in front of us, and a slender, well dressed man in his late thirties got out of the car in a smooth cat-like manner…
‘Uncle Salvatore’ Catharina squealed, hurling herself at him and hugging him passionately. ‘Ciao, tesorina’, he said in a low baritone, smiling his handsome smile from ear to ear. ‘Che piacere vederti!’
‘Let me introduce you to my dearest friend Angie’, Catharina said huskily, looking over her shoulder in my direction, her arms still around Uncle Salvatore’s waist. I couldn’t help but notice that there was a definite family resemblance between them, while four eyes pierced in my direction.
I approached them timidly, not sure if there would be another charged exchange of affections between uncle and niece. Uncle Salvatore seemed to feel my hesitation and walked towards me. He took my hand and bowed to kiss it, but his lips never actually touched my hand. ‘It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Signorina Angelica’, he said and subsequently went to open the door of his car, gesticulating invitingly. ‘What a charmer’, I thought, but at the same time I had the sturdy intuition that there was more to this man than meets the eye.
Minutes later we sped through the countryside, while Catharina, sitting beside me in the rear, told her uncle the story of the Corsican sisters and the confinement, probably against her will, of Lauredana in the Convent of San Bonifacio. Uncle Salvatore remained silent for a while, seemingly figuring out what to think of this situation, looking at me through his rear-view mirror from time to time.
‘I suggest you let me make some inquiries, while you two stay over for the weekend at the house’, he said. ‘Aunt Claudia will be delighted to have you over’. Catharina, apparently in a cheeky mood, kissed me furtively in my neck and settled herself against me, her head on my shoulder. Not sure whether Uncle Salvatore had noticed this affection, I looked outside, blushing vigorously.
(to be continued)
Uncle Salvatore – part one
July 12th, 2009(continued from: “The Bishop”)
A sudden draft made me shiver, and as I was wondering how this was possible in this heat of summer, the door of Mother Ferocia’s office swung open, revealing a stocky, authoritarian woman. ‘Greetings, my children, may the lord bless you and your loved ones. Please step into my chambers’, she said, leading the way into the semi-dark office. She told us to sit down and watched us questioningly before she started to speak.
‘Sister Felicitas tells me you come to visit poor Sister Lauredana. Are you ladies family?’ she inquired with a piercing look. Catharina seemed relaxed as she answered, ‘it’s as if we were, we’re good friends of the Colonna family and Lauredana’s sister Brunella. There is some concern about the well-being of Lauredana, and we promised the family to look her up to establish that she’s all right and well taken care of.’
Taking in Catharina’s words, the Mother Superior took a deep breath before responding. ‘Oh, dear,’ she sighed, looking somewhat annoyed. ‘I suppose I have no choice but to give you the same answer as I gave her sister last week, when she came to visit the convent unexpectedly. Sister Lauredana has been suffering lately from delusions that propelled her into a catatonic limbo. Even though there is some slight improvement in her state, there is almost no way to communicate with her at the present time. Of course she is monitored closely by an accomplished psychiatrist and our competent medical nurses. She gets all the attention she needs, and she is in our prayers every day, but for the time being it’s considered detrimental for her to have visitors, even from family and close friends.’
Catharina closed her eyes for a short moment, as if she was forcing herself to stay calm and composed in the presence of this older woman, while thinking of an approach that might dissuade the Mother Superior. ‘We simply cannot go back to the family with this news and expect them to remain patient and await notice of the progress of her illness,’ she spoke in a inquisitive manner. ‘Well miss, I’m mortified to have to contradict you, but the only living family Lauredana has, is her sister Brunella, and she seemed to have accepted our views on the treatment of Lauredana, and on how we expect to lead her sister back to sanity, albeit in the long run.’
Catharina made a last attempt to break the vicious circle we were in by saying: ‘It would really help if you would allow us just to see her for a very short moment and…’ But Mother Ferocia raised her hand in a gesture that was unmistakably indicating the fact that she had no intention to repeat herself, and considered the matter closed. When she spoke it was only to say: ‘I wish you ladies a safe journey back home, go with God…’
Without saying another word, we got up and left Mother Ferocia’s office, closing the door behind us, somewhat loudly. Sister Felicitas was waiting for us patiently and started to lead the way back to the main gate. As we were out of sight of the main building, Sister Felicitas looked around nervously, as if afraid to be overheard, and said: ‘I wanted to say something to Mrs. Brunella Colonna, last week when she left the convent, but I couldn’t speak freely, and I was afraid of the possible consequences. For a week I was desperate, feeling I missed the only chance to say something useful about her sister’s condition, but then you ladies came along. It’s as if I’ve been given a second chance!’ ‘Speak your mind dear,’ Catharina said mildly.
‘Some twenty years ago, when they brought in Sister Lauredana, wounded and in the last stages of her pregnancy, I overheard a conversation between Mother Ferocia and Bishop Tarantino, who was only Father Tarantino at the time. The phrase that haunted me for all these years was then uttered by the Bishop: “The child will have no knowledge of her natural mother, and will be placed, as usual, in a family arranged by our associates.” ‘These words were incomprehensible to me at first, but through the years they became clear. The only problem was that I didn’t know what to do with it,’ she said half sobbing.
Once we were back at the train station and Catia translated her story to me, I was so confused that my head was spinning. Catharina walked resolutely over to the nearest phone booth and dialed Uncle Salvatore’s number.
(to be continued)
Wine is Good For You!
July 6th, 2009You’ve been drinking wine for years, and enjoying every drop of it.
You just always looked at it as your end of the day reward, a little something just for you. Well now you can pat yourself on the back, because it turns out you’re doing something very good for your health.
Live Longer by Drinking Wine?
Scientific studies have now been done, proving that one to two, four ounce glasses of wine a day are very beneficial to your health. A Finnish study recently showed that wine drinkers have a 34% lower rate of mortality than any other kind of alcohol drinkers, including beer drinkers.
Your Heart Loves Wine
People who have high blood pressure and drink wine are 30 percent less likely to have a heart attack than non-drinkers! That’s a pretty good reason to drink (moderately) right there.
Protection from Diabetes
It also seems that moderate drinkers have a 30% less chance of developing diabetes than non-drinkers.
The Eyes Have It
Wine drinkers were 43 % less likely to develop cataracts than those drinking mainly beer.
Wine Helps Prevent Brain Drain
Believe it or not, drinking moderately helps slow the decline in brain function as we age. Imagine, drinking helps you keep your smarts!
Wine Has Anti-Oxidants
Moderate wine drinkers (especially red wine) have higher levels of antioxidants in their blood than non-drinkers. This is great news, as antioxidants play a huge role in preventing disease.
Don’t let anyone tell you drinking wine is not good for you. Wine has been around for thousands of years for a reason!
Moderate wine drinking is not only good for your health, it’s a pleasurable activity that is a wonderful way to relax, especially at the end of a long day. Why not give your health a boost and treat yourself to some wonderful relaxation at the same time?
The Bishop – part three
June 5th, 2009(continued from: “The Bishop – part two”)
![convent-of-san-bonifacio]](http://angiesdiary.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/convent-of-san-bonifacio.jpg "convent-of-san-bonifacio]")
We got off the train and asked for information about the last part of our trip to the Convent of San Bonifacio. Unlike me, Catharina seemed to be suffering disproportionately from having her period, and as a result looked ominous during the whole trip. When we got off the bus, we could already see the convent in the outlying valley. We walked the remainder of the distance, and at long last we rang the bell on the gate that gave way to the entrance of the premises.
A smiling, elderly nun answered our call and asked how she could be of service. To my surprise, Catharina was obviously well prepared for this encounter, and asked to speak to the Mother Superior on an urgent family matter. It only took a second and the large gate opened as in a dream. ‘I’m Sister Felicitas, please follow me’, she said still smiling her compassionate smile, as she preceded us through the garden leading up to the monumental entrance of the convent.
‘We are honored today to have the bishop Tarantino in our midst. He comes and visit us twice a year, but he’s actually just leaving us right now.’ We heard a car door slam shut, and after a few moments a large Maserati Quattroporte limousine drove right past us, and I could clearly make out the bishop’s balding head with surrounding white hair, sitting in the rear of the car, as it quickly disappeared into the distance.
With a sudden frown Sister Felicitas kept on leading the way and finally asked us to wait in the hallway in front of what appeared to be the Mother Superior’s office. ‘I’m sure Mother Ferocia will be calling for you in a few minutes, I’ll see you ladies afterwards. Bye for now…’ she said as she walked away, still looking troubled.
Waking up through a veil of pain and confusion, Lauredana looked apprehensively at her eight and a half months pregnant belly, while gripping it in a surge of panic from both sides. But then she felt a reassuring kick from her unborn baby. Slowly the trauma of the accident started to take shape in her mind’s eye. The worst loss imaginable had come upon her. For a year now, since her twentieth birthday, she had been deeply in love with a boy called Michael. They had married, she became pregnant, and the world was smiling its broadest smile at them.
But now, in what turned out to be Lauredana’s worst nightmare, they had been involved in a car accident during her first visit to Italy since her departure to the US as a child. It had killed Michael practically on the spot, and had left her in her advanced pregnancy, miraculously, although seriously bruised and scratched, very much alive.
‘My name is Father Tarantino, and you are here in the care of the nuns of the Convent of San Bonifacio.’ A deep sounding voice resonated from the side of her sickbed. She couldn’t make out his face, because he stood exactly between her and the sun that flooded her bed with light, through the only window in the ward. ‘You will need some time to recover, and we are here to make sure that you and your baby will receive all the care you need. We understand, of course, that the loss of your husband will only become bearable with the passage of time, but please rest assured that you are in capable hands, and your soul is guarded by the love of Jesus himself. So don’t hesitate to ask for counsel. We all pray for you and your baby’s health.’
After these words, the dark silhouette of Father Tarantino left the room, only to make place for a pleasant looking young nun, carrying a tray with a single dish and water can with a glass. On the basis of the tray the number 25 seemed to be painted, but when it was placed on her lap, it appeared to be the number 52*.
The young nun smiled her youth as she introduced herself as Sister Felicitas, and without hesitation started to explain what the dish contained. ‘This is a specially made “Cacciucco alla Livornese” (Livorno’s Zesty Stewed Fish)’, she beamed, and continued her explanations; ‘Cacciucco is a fish stew made in the Tuscan port of Livorno, from whatever the fishmonger has that’s fresh and inexpensive. It has a healthy jolt of red pepper, and will sell you on fish if you don’t like fish already. The fish was brought in this morning from the port of Livorno and prepared brilliantly by our dear cook, Sister Clementia.’
Lauredana felt the need of nutrition for her unborn, and the amazing smell of the Cacciucco forced her pain and trauma somewhat to the background, and she started eating as if in trance.
*52, according to the “Smorfia Napoletana”, means “The Mother” (La Mamma)
Cacciucco alla Livornese
To serve 4-6 persons:
Preparation Time: 1 hour
Cooking Time: 30 minutes
Ingredients:
• 1 1/2 to 2 pounds of mixed fish
• A half a medium onion, minced
• 2 cloves garlic
• A bunch of parsley, minced
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 3/4 pound sliced peeled or canned plum tomatoes
• 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar diluted in 3/4 cup of water
• Salt and crumbled or minced hot red pepper to taste
• Toasted Italian bread rubbed with garlic
Preparation:
The Fish: Whatever is in season (it needn’t be expensive), for example, sole, mullet, catfish, dogfish, goby, squid, octopus, fresh shellfish, and shrimp. Chop the large fish, but leave the small ones whole.
Procedure:
Sauté the onion, parsley, and garlic in the oil in a deep bottomed pot. Once the onion has turned translucent, stir in the chopped tomatoes and season the mixture to taste. This is one of the few hot North Italian dishes, so don’t feel you must be sparing with the red pepper. When the tomatoes are done, stir in the water and vinegar. Simmer the sauce for a few more minutes and remove the garlic. Blend the sauce and return it to the fire with the fish, and, if you wish, sprinkle another tablespoon or two of olive oil into the pot. Simmer the Cacciucco until the fish is done, 10-15 minutes. Meanwhile, toast several slices of bread and rub them with a crushed clove of garlic. Once the fish is done, line the bottoms of your bowls with the toasted bread, ladle the Cacciucco over them, and serve boiling hot.
Wine suggestion:
Goes well with white wine, either a Bolgheri Bianco or a Bianco della Val di Cornia would do just fine.
(to be continued in “Uncle Salvatore – part one”)
The Bishop – part two
April 28th, 2009(continued from: “The Bishop – part one“)
We left the “Pensione Mirafiori” immediately after breakfast and got on a bus to Livorno’s Central Station. We figured out the best connection to Lauredana Colonna’s convent and then we were on our way. On the train we sat next to a Calabrese family that was surrounded by kids and a multitude of parcels which were all tied meticulously with pieces of string. The mother was making sandwiches with olives and garlic and rubbed tomatoes. Then, after having provided for the kids, the father held out a sandwich in each hand and offered them to us. There was simply no way we could possibly refuse, and we joined these wonderful people in an unexpected lunch.
Brunella Colonna was looking down the long entrance road towards the country house from the terrace of her temporary lodgings. She rubbed her unseeing eye under the black eye patch she started wearing shortly after having recovered from the wounds that were inflicted upon her during the raid on her family’s mansion, now one year ago.
After the raid, the gardener of the estate contacted the only person in the Colonna family he knew to be alive and trustworthy; Aunt Francesca. As soon as Francesca learned what happened, she took both sisters to the United States and made sure that their safety and the recuperation of Brunella was guaranteed.
Slowly the sisters started to adapt to their new lives and surroundings, while trusted private teachers taught the girls all necessary disciplines and subjects to befit real aristocrats. Still, as their presence was kept as secret as possible, always on the lookout for potential betrayal and afraid to be recognized, they hardly ever got to travel beyond the boundaries of the large estate of Aunt Francesca.
Brunella, who had just become twelve year old, was two years younger than her sister Lauredana, but was in all respects superior and more confident. Of course she would never say or do anything to be condescending or give her sister the feeling of being inferior, but instead made an effort to give the older sister the respect that was expected of her in accordance with her upbringing.
Catharina cursed softly under her breath and asked me for a Tampax. After which she left the train cabin, leaving me in a linguistic vacuum, alone with the Calabresi. Still, gesticulating and feeling an actor in a pantomime, I got by and realized for the first time I started to be educated in Italian culture.
(to be continued)
