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Here are the tastingspoons players. I’m in the middle (Carolyn). Daughter Sara on the right, and daughter-in-law Karen on the left. I started the blog in 2007, as a way to share recipes with my family. Now in 2023, I’m still doing 99% of the blogging and holding out hope that these two lovely and excellent cooks will participate. They both lead very busy lives, so we’ll see.

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BOOK READING (from Carolyn):

Under the Java Moon, by Heather Moore. Sometimes these WWII books are tough to read. This is a true story (written as fiction, though) about a few Dutch families who are taken prisoner on Java Island, by the Japanese. Certainly it’s a story about unbelievable deprivation and sadness, but also about resilience too. Not everyone survives, as you could guess, but you’ll be rooting for young Rita who takes on so many responsibilities far beyond her 6-year old’s abilities. I read this because a dear friend of mine’s husband (now deceased) was in the Army during WWII and spent a lot of his duty in Indonesia and had horrific stories to tell about the weather and environment (awful!). A period of his life he liked to forget. The book certainly brings that period and place to the forefront. I’m glad I read it.

Never in a million years would I have picked up Blind Your Ponies, by Stanley Gordon West. If I’d read the cover or flap that the bulk of the story is about basketball, I’d have put it back on the shelf. But oh, this book is – yes, about basketball, but it’s about a place in time in Montana, a few decades ago, when a tiny town supported their high school team. It’s about a dream. About the town who believed in them. About a tall young man who comes to lives in the town, and his deliverance, really, from a pretty awful background as he plays basketball, when he’d never played before. It’s about relationships, marriages, families and about how this little team makes it. Such a great story and SO glad I read it.

A Girl Called Samson, by Amy Harmon. I’m a fan of anything written by Harmon, and this one delivered as all her books do. 1760, Massachusetts. Deborah Samson is an indentured servant but yearns for independence. From being a rather tall, skinny kid (a girl) to faking it as a young soldier (a young man) in the Continental army. You’ll marvel at her ability to hide her true self. It’s quite a story. She’s thrown into the worst of situations in the war and comes through with flying colors. You’ll find yourself rooting for her and also fearing mightily that she’s going to either get killed, or be “found out,” by some of the men. Riveting story beginning to end. There’s a love interest here too which is very sweet.

On Mystic Lake, by Kristin Hannah. This is a book Hannah wrote some years ago, and tells the story of a woman, Annie, who finds out (on the day their daughter goes off to a foreign land for an exchange quarter) that her husband is in love with another woman and leaves her. Annie, who has been the quintessential perfect corporate wife, is devastated. She felt blind-sided. She cries and wallows, but eventually she returns home to her small town, where her widowed dad lives, in Washington. There she runs into many people she knew and at first feels very out of place. Slowly, she finds the town more welcoming and she helps a previous boyfriend, now widowed with his young daughter. A connection is there. Annie has to find herself, and she definitely does that. Her husband rears his head (of course he does!) after several months, and Annie has to figure out what to do. I don’t want to give away the story. Lots of twists and turns.

The Vineyard, by Barbara Delinsky. A novel with many current day issues. Husband and wife own a vineyard in Rhode Island. Husband dies. Widow soon (too soon) marries the manager, a hired employee, much to the consternation of her two grown children. Widow hires woman as personal assistant (much of the book comes from her voice) and she gets entangled into the many webs, clinging from the many decades the winery has tried to be successful. Really interesting. Lots of plot twists, but all revolving around work of the vineyard. Cute love story too. It wouldn’t be a Delinsky book without that aspect.

Consequences, Penelope Lively. I’ve always loved this author’s writing style. Have read many of her books. This one follows a rather dotted line family, the women, as they grow through worn-torn London and England. There’s poverty and both major events and minor ones that send the story’s trajectory in new directions. Riveting for me. Lively won the Booker Prize for Moon Tiger, her most famous book.

Below Zero, C.J. Box. Mystery of the first order. A Joe Pickett novel (he’s a game warden in Wyoming) with a family member thought dead is suddenly alive. Or is she? Joe’s on the hunt to find out. I don’t read these books at night – too scary. I love his books, though.

Consolations of the Forest: Alone in a Cabin on the Siberian Taiga, by Sylvain Tesson. I’m not sure what possessed me to read this book. About a late 30s guy who seems to crave solitude; he’s offered a 11×11 cabin in the cold/frozen Siberian outback, on a huge lake that freezes over in winter. Here’s a quote from the book: “A visit to my wooden crates. My supplies are dwindling. I have enough pasta left for a month and Tabasco to drench it in. I have flour, tea and oil. I’m low on coffee. As for vodka, I should make it to the end of April.” Vodka plays large in this book. Tesson (who is French, with Russian heritage) is a gifted writer, about the wilderness, the flora and fauna, about the alone-ness, the introspection. Mostly he ate pasta with Tabasco. No other sauce. Many shots of vodka every day. Drunkenness plays a serious role too – what else is there to do, you might ask? He lived there for about a year. I’d have lasted a week, no more.

The Auburn Conference by Tom Piazza. Another one, given my druthers I’m not sure I’d have picked up. For one of my book clubs. Excellent writing. 1883, upstate NY. A young professor decides to make a name for himself and puts on an event, inviting many literary luminaries of the day (Mark Twain, Frederick Douglass, Herman Melville, Forrest Taylor and a romance novelist [the outlier] Lucy Comstock). Part panel discussion, part private conversations, the author weaves a tale of discord, some moderate yelling, some rascism and much ridicule of the romance novelist. Also some words of wisdom, maybe not from the authors you’d have expected. Unusual book.

As Bright as Heaven, by Susan Meissner. 1918. Philadelphia. About a young family arriving with the highest of hopes. Then the Spanish Flu hits and dashes everything. You’ll learn a whole lot about that particular virulent flu and the tragic aftermath. Really good read.

Hour of the Witch, by Chris Bohjalian. Boston, 1662. A young woman becomes the 2nd wife of a powerful man, a cruel man. She determines to leave him, something just “not done” back then. Twists and turns, she’s accused of being a witch. Story of survival, and a redeeming love too.

My Oxford Year, by Julia Whelan. At 24, a young woman is honored with a Rhodes Scholarship to Oxford. She’s older than most of her fellow classmates, and as an American, doesn’t fit in very well. She’s left a good job back home, but determines to try to work some for the political campaign job she’s left, and also do the work for her Oxford scholarship. She meets a professor. Oh my. Such an interesting book. I loved learning about the culture of Oxford, and there’s a fascinating romance too, somewhat a forbidden one with said professor.

Madame Pommery, by Rebecca Rosenberg. I love champagne. Have read a number of books over the years (novels) about the region (and I’ve visited there once). This is real history, though in a novelized form. Madame Pommery was widowed, and determined she would blaze a trail that was not well received (no women in the champagne business for starters). And she decides to make a different, less sweet version. She’s hated and reviled, but sticks to her guns, veering away from the then very sweet version all the winemakers were producing. Fascinating story.

The Wager, by David Grann. A true tale of shipwreck, mutiny and murder back in the 1740s. Not exactly my usual genre of reading, but once I heard about the book, I decided I needed to read it. This is a novelized version of the story, based on the facts of an English shipwreck, first off Brazil, then later off Chile. Of the men, their struggle to survive (and many didn’t). Yes, there’s murder involved, and yes, there’s mutiny as well. Those who survived stood trial back in England many years later. Riveting read.

Before We Were Yours, by Lisa Wingate. 1939. A shantyboat in the backwaters of the Mississippi River. A 12-year old girl is left to care for her younger siblings when her mother is taken ill. A mystery ensues, and soon officials chase these youngsters to take them into an orphanage, one that became infamous for “selling” the children, weaving wild tales of their provenance. Dual timeline, you read about a successful young attorney who returns home to help her father, and questions come up about the family history. Fascinating read. You’ll learn about this real abominable woman, Georgia Tann, who profited by her “sales.”

The Vaster Wilds, by Lauren Goff. This tells the story of a young servant girl, in the aftermath of the starvation in Jamestown, the beleaguered town that virtually disappeared because the people weren’t prepared for the harshness of survival in those days. She escapes before the demise of the town and heads west, with nothing but the clothes she’s wearing. She survives longer than you might think, and encounters a lot of interesting experiences and people. Very interesting historical read.

Lady Tan’s Circle of Woman, Lisa See. Historical fiction, from 1469, Ming Dynasty, China. Based on the true story, however, about a young woman mostly raised by her grandmother who is a well known physician. Her grandfather is a scholarly physician, her grandmother, more an herbalist, or like a pharmacist of the day. Tan eventually marries into a family and is immediately subjugated by the matriarch, who won’t allow her to practice any of her healing arts. Quite a story, and also about how she eventually does treat women (women “doctors” were only allowed to treat women) as a midwife and herbalist. You’ll learn a whole lot about the use of flowers and herbs for healing and about the four humors.

Winter Garden, by Kristen Hannah. Quite a story, taking place in Washington State with apple orchards forming a backdrop and family business. Two sisters, never much friends even when they were young, return home to help care for their ailing father. Their mother? What an enigma. She took no part in raising them, yet she lived in the home. She cooked for the family, but rarely interacted. Yet her father adored his wife, their mother. How do they bridge the gulf between each other and also with their mother. Another page turner from Kristen Hannah.

Trail of the Lost, by Andrea Lankford. Not my usual genre. This is nonfiction, about Lankford who has plenty of credentials for rescue services, and is an avid hiker herself, determines to try to find some missing people who have disappeared off the face of the earth on the Pacific Crest Trail. It’s about how rescues work, everything from the disconnect between active citizens who want to help, and seemingly the unwillingness of authorities to share information. Not exactly a positive for law enforcement in this book. Really fascinating. There are hundreds of people who have disappeared off various long hike trails in the U.S. This is about four who were hiking (separately and at different times) on the PCT.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow and Tomorrow, by Gabrielle Zevin. I’ve never been a “gamer.” Not by any standard definition, anyway. Not like people who really get into games, adventure, killers, etc. And this book isn’t a game .. . but it’s a novel (and a great story, I might add) about how these games come into being. How they’re invented, how they morph. First there were two college students, then a third person is added, and they end up creating a wildly popular game. A company is born. And it goes from there. Mostly it’s about the people, their relationships, but set amidst the work of creating and running a gaming company. Not all fun and games, pun intended.

Remarkably Bright Creatures, by Shelby Van Pelt. Oh gosh, what a fabulous book. It’s a novel; however, much of the story is about the intelligence of octopus. In particular this one, Marcellus, who lives in an aquarium in a fictitious town in western Washington State. More than anything the book is about relationships, not only Marcellus with a woman (of a certain age) who cleans the aquarium at night, but the various people in this small town.

Trust, by Herman Diaz. This novel is an enigma in so many ways. It’s a book, within a book, within a book. About the stock market crash back in 1929, but it’s about a man. Oh my. It’s really interesting. This book won the Pulitzer. That’s why I bought it.

Cassidy Hutchinson is a young woman (a real one) who works in politics or “government.” She’s worked for some prestigious Washington politicians, and ended up working for Trump. The book is a memoir of her short spin working at the highest levels, and obviously at the White House. She worked under Mark Meadows and suffered a lot of ridicule when she quit. Truth and lies . . . when she couldn’t live with herself and subvert the truth. Enough, gives you plenty of detail leading up to and after the January 6th uprising. She testified to Congress about what she knew. Really interesting. I almost never read books about politics because I think many (most?) of our elected politicians succumb to the lure of power and forget who they work for, us, the public.

Becoming Dr. Q, by Alfredo Quiñones-Hinojosa, MD, is an Associate Professor of Neurosurgery and Oncology at Johns Hopkins University. This is his memoir about how he went from being a penniless migrant from Mexico to one of the world’s most renowned experts in brain tumors.

The Invincible Miss Cust, by Penny Haw.  In 1868 Ireland, a woman wasn’t allowed to attend veterinary school, much less become a veterinarian. It took  years of trying (to the horror of her aristocratic family) and finally someone took her under their wing, she enrolled using a pseudonym (a name not revealing her gender). This is a true story of Aleen Isabel Cust, who did just that.

Her Heart for a Compass, by Sarah Ferguson (yes), the Duchess of York. I was pleasantly surprised as I read this book that it wasn’t the usual romantic romp – there’s more to this story than you might think. Ferguson utilizes some of her family ancestors as real characters in the book. Sweet story but with lots of twists and turns.

Someone Else’s Shoes, by Jojo Moyes.Nisha, our heroine, is a wealthy socialite. She thinks her life is perfect. At the gym someone else grabs her gym bag, so she grabs the similar one. Then she finds out her husband is leaving her and he’s locked her out of their high-rise apartment. She’s penniless. No attorney will take her on. She has nothing but this gym bag belonging to someone else (who?).

The Eleventh Man, Ivan Doig. What a story. Ben, part of a Montana college football team in the 1940s, joins the service during WWII. So do all of his eleven teammates. After suffering some injuries in pilot training he is recruited by a stealthy military propaganda machine. His job is to write articles about his teammates as they are picked off at various battle theaters around the Pacific and Europe. Ben goes there, in person, to fuel the stories. Ivan Doig is a crafty writer; I’ve read several of his books, my favorite being The Whistling Season.

Wavewalker, by Suzanne Heywood. Oh my goodness. A memoir about a very young English girl who goes off with her besotted and narcissistic parents and her brother on a years-long sailing journey supposedly following the route of James Cook. A very old, decrepit 70-foot schooner. Four people, 2 sort-of adults and 2 children. Sometimes a helper or two. A seasick mother. A dad who is driven to the extreme, whatever the damage he creates. She spent 10 years aboard.

Claire Keegan wrote Small Things Like These. It’s won a lot of awards, and shortlisted for the Booker Prize. Takes place in Ireland. Some profound questions come up in this novella, about complicity, about restitution. There’s a convent nearby, and attached one of those places young girls were sent if they found themselves “in the family way,” and about how the church helped, supposedly, by taking the children and placing them in homes, without consent. It’s ugly, the truth of the matter. Really good read.

Nicholas Sparks isn’t an author I read very often because his books are pretty sappy, but daughter Sara recommended this one, The Longest Ride. It begins with Ira (age 93), stuck in his car as it plunges off the edge of a road, and it’s snowing. As the hours tick by, he reminisces about his life.

The Neuroscientist Who Lost Her Mind, by Barbara Lipska. Interesting that I’ve read two books recently about the brain (see Doctor Q above). This is a true story about a woman, a neuroscientist, who developed a metastatic melanoma in the brain.

The Price of Inheritance, by Karin Tanabe. This is a mystery, of sorts. Our heroine is an up and coming employee at Christie’s (auction house). In bringing a large collection of expensive art to auction, she makes a misstep about the provenance of a desk. She’s fired. She goes back to her roots, takes a job at a small antique store where she used to work.

The Covenant of Water, by Abraham Verghese. Did you read Cutting for Stone, years ago, by this author? Such a good book, so I knew I’d enjoy this one, and oh, did I!. The book takes place in a little known area of southern India, and chronicles a variety of people over a few generations, who inhabit the place.

Finding Dorothy, by Elizabeth Letts. My friend Dianne recommended this book to me, and it was so special. Loved it beginning to end. It’s based on the story of 77-year old Maud Gage Baum (her husband Frank Baum wrote The Wizard of Oz).

The Bandit Queens, by Parini Shroff. It’s about a young Indian woman, Geeta, as she tries her best to make a living after her husband leaves her. Yet the community she lives in, thinks Geeta murdered him.

Attribution, by Linda Moore. We follow art historian Cate, as she struggles to succeed in her chosen field against sexist advisors. She finds what she thinks is a hidden painting.

The Measure, Nikki Erlick. Oh my goodness. This story grabbed me from about the third sentence. Everyone in the world finds a wooden box on their doorstep, or in front of their camper or tent, that contains a string. Nothing but a string. The author has a vivid imagination (I admire that) and you just will not believe the various reactions (frenzy?) from people who are short-stringers, or long-stringers.

The Book Spy by Alan Hlad. True stories, but in novel form, of a special Axis group of men and women librarians and microfilm specialists, sent to strategic locations in Europe to acquire and scour newspapers, books, technical manuals and periodicals, for information about German troop locations, weaponry and military plans of WWII. I was glued to the book beginning to end. Fascinating accounts.

A Dangerous Business, Jane Smiley. What a story. 1850s gold rush, story of two young prostitutes, finding their way in a lawless town in the Wild West. There’s a murder, or two, or three, or some of the town’s prostitutes, and the two women set out to solve the crime.

Storm Watch, by C. J. Box. I’m such a fan of his tales of Wyoming Game Warden Joe Pickett’s adventures catching criminals. Loved it, just like I’ve loved every one of his books.

Defiant Dreams, by Sola Mahfouz. True story about the author, born in Afghanistan in 1996. This is about her journey to acquire an education. It’s unbelievable what the Taliban does to deter and forbid women from bettering themselves.

Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh. This is fairly light read, a novel – but interesting, about the meaning behind many flowers.

The Rome Apartment, by Kerry Fisher. Such a cute story. Maybe not an interesting read for a man. It’s about Beth, whose husband has just left her, and her daughter has just gone off to college. Beth needs a new lease on life, so she rents a room from a woman who lives in Rome.

All the Beauty in the World, a memoir by Patrick Bringley. Absolutely LOVED this book. Bringley was at loose ends and accepted a job as a guard at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC. He’d been a journalist at The New Yorker magazine, but after his brother was ill and died, he needed refreshing. After his training at the museum, he moves from room to room, guarding the precious art, and learning all about the pieces and the painters or sculptors.

The Queen’s Lady, by Joanna Hickson. I love stories about Tudor England, and this one didn’t disappoint. Joan Guildford is a lady in waiting to Queen Elizabeth. Oh my goodness are there twists and turns.

Once in awhile I’m ready to read another Louise Penny mystery. This time it was World of Curiosities. Usually I’d write something wonderful regarding “another tome about Three Pines.” Not going to say it this time. Three Pines becomes a sinister place. Murders (many).

Over the years I’ve read many of Jodi Picoult’s books. This, her newest, or very new, is called Mad Honey. Oh, my. This book is beyond Picoult’s usual borders, but then she always writes edgy books. That’s her genre. This one is written with a co-author, a woman who is gay (I think) and also a trans-gender.

Philippa Gregory is one of my fav authors. Just finished her 3rd (and last, I think) in the Fairmile series called Dawnlands. If you scroll down below you’ll find the 2nd book in the series, Tidelands. Very interesting about English history, but about the same families from the first book in the group. Loved it, as I loved all of them.

Am currently reading Rutherfurd’s long, long book, Paris. I love these involved historical novels about a place (he’s written many about specific places in the world). It’s a saga that goes back and forth in time, following the travails of various people and families, through thick and thin. Some of it during the era of the King Louis’ (plural, should I say Louies?). Very interesting about some of the city’s history and royalty.

Although this book says A Christmas Memory, by Richard Paul Evans, it’s not just about Christmas. A young boy is the hero here, but really an older widower man who lives next door plays a pivotal part of this book.

Wish You Were Here, by Jodi Picoult. Another page-turner. I loved this book. A thirty-something woman, about to take a trip with her boyfriend, when Covid breaks out. Covid plays a major role in this book, beginning to end. She decides to go anyway as her boyfriend is a doctor and cannot leave. She ends up on a remote Galapagos island, and you go along with her – with people she meets, the life she leads, the isolation she experiences, the loneliness she feels, but the joy of nature is a sustaining aspect.

Not everyone wants to read food memoirs. When I saw Sally Schmitt had written a memoir, titled Six California Kitchens, I knew I wanted to read it. I met Sally a few times over the years when I visited Napa Valley, and bought some of her famous pickled items, chutneys, jams, etc. She was the original chef at The French Laundry, before it became truly famous by Thomas Keller.

Being a fan of Vivian Howard (from her TV show), when I saw she’d written another book, I knew I should buy it. This Will Make It Taste Good is such an unusual name for a cookbook, but once you get into the groove of the book, you’ll understand. What’s here are recipes for some “kitchen heroes” she calls them. They’re condiments. They’re food additions, they’re flavor enhancers.

As soon as it came out, I ordered Spare, by Prince Harry. I’ve always been interested in the Royal Family.

Unaccustomed Earth by Jhumpa Lahiri. Usually I don’t seek out short stories. I might have purchased this book without realizing it was. There aren’t that many stories – each one gets you very ingrained in the characters. I love her writing, and would think each story in this book could be made into a full-fledged novel.

A Lantern in Her Hand, by Beth Streeter Aldrich. A very interesting and harrowing story of early pioneer days in the Midwest (Nebraska I think); covered wagon time up to about 80 years later as the heroine, Abbie Deal, and her husband start a family in a small town.

The Messy Lives of Book People, by Phaedra Patrick. From amazon’s page: Mother of two Liv Green barely scrapes by as a maid to make ends meet, often finding escape in a good book while daydreaming of becoming a writer herself. So she can’t believe her luck when she lands a job housekeeping for her personal hero, mega-bestselling author Essie Starling, a mysterious and intimidating recluse.

Four Seasons in Rome by Anthony Doerr. I’m a fan of this author and relished reading his book about a year in his personal life, with his wife and very new, newborn twins. Doerr was given an auspicious award – a year of study in Rome, with apartment and a stipend. There are four chapters, by season.

Kristin Hannah’s Distant Shores is quite a read. Some described it as like a soap opera. Not me. Interesting character development of a couple who married young. She put her own career/wants/desires aside to raise their children. He forged ahead with his life dreams. The children grow up and move on. Then he’s offered a huge promotion across the country. She’s torn – she doesn’t want to be in New York, but nothing would get in the way of his career.

Oh, William! by Elizabeth Strout. Lucy Barton is divorced. But she’s still sort of friendly with her ex. It’s complicated. Out of the blue he asks her to go on a trip with him to discover something about his roots.

Tidelands,  by Philippa Gregory. It tells the tale of a peasant woman, Alinor (an herbalist and midwife), who lives barely above the poverty level, trying to raise two children, during the time of great turmoil in England, the rancorous civil war about Charles 1.

Read Reminders of Him, by Colleen Hoover. A page turner of a story. A young woman is convicted of a crime (young and foolish type). Once released her sole purpose is to be a part of her daughter’s life.

The Last Anniversary by Liane Moriarty. Oh my goodness. The wicked webs we weave. How in the world did the author even come UP with this wild story, but she did, and it kept me glued. Sophie walked away from her wedding day, and always wondered if she made the wrong decision.

Very funny and poignant story, Mrs. Palfrey at the Claremont, by Elizabeth Taylor (no, not that one). Mrs. Palfrey, a woman of a certain age, moves into an old folks’ home in London. It’s a sort of hotel, but has full time elderly quirky residents.

For one of my book clubs we read Lessons in Chemistry, by Bonnie Garmus. This book is so hard to describe. Elizabeth is a wizard at chemistry and struggles to be recognized for her intelligence and research. She meets a man at her company who is brilliant too. They make quite a pair. They have a child, then he suddenly dies. Her work isn’t taken seriously, so she leaves her employment and becomes an overnight phenom on a cooking show where she uses the chemical names for things like sodium chloride, etc. You go alongside her struggles, and her raising of her daughter. LOTS of humor, lots to discuss for a book club.

Horse. Oh my, is it a page turner. Loved it from the first page to the last. Sad when it ended. It’s a fictional creation but based on a real racehorse owned by a black man, back in the 1850s. Technically, the story is about a painting of the horse but there are many twists and turns. If you’ve ever enjoyed Brooks’ books in the past, this one won’t disappoint.

The Book of Lost Names, by Kristin Harmel (no, not Hannah). Certainly a little-known chunk of history about a woman who becomes a master forger during WWII to help get Jewish children out of France. Not easy to read, meaning the difficulty of anyone finding the means and place to DO the forgery and right under the noses of the Nazis. Really good read.

Liane Moriarty’s first novel, Three Wishes, follows the travails of adult triplets, so different, yet similar in many ways. Two are identical, the third is not. So alike, and so not. It takes you through a series of heart-wrenching events, seemingly unrelated, but ones that could bring a family to its breaking point and test the bonds of love and strength.

Recently I’ve read both of Erin French’s books, her cookbook, The Lost Kitchen, and since then her memoir, Finding Freedom. About her life growing up (difficult) about her coming of age mostly working in the family diner, flipper burgers and fries (and learning how much she liked to cook). Now she’s a very successful restaurant entrepreneur (The Lost Kitchen is also the name of her restaurant) in the minuscule town of Freedom, Maine. She’s not a classically trained chef, but she’s terrifically creative. See her TV series on Discover+ if you subscribe.

Jo Jo Moyes has a bunch of books to her credit. And she writes well, with riveting stories. Everything I’ve read of hers has been good. This book, The Girl You Left Behind, is so different, so intriguing, so controversial and a fascinating historical story. There are two timelines here, one during WWI, in France, when a relatively unknown painter (in the style of Matisse) paints a picture of his wife. The war intervenes for both the husband and the wife.

Eli Shafak’s Island of Missing Trees. This book was just a page turner. If you’ve never read anything about the conflict in Cyprus (the island) between the Turks and the Greeks, you’re in for a big history lesson here. But, the entire story centers around a fig tree. You get into the head/brain/feelings of this big fig tree which plays a very central part of the story. You’ll learn a lot about animals, insects (ants, mosquitos, butterflies) and other flora and fauna of Cyprus.

Also read Apples Never Fall by Liane Moriarty. Ohhh my, such a good book. I couldn’t put it down. Whatever you do, do not read the ending before you start the book. I’ve never understood people who do this. The book chronicles the day a mom just ups and disappears. The grown children come back home, in panic. The dad isn’t much help, and he becomes the prime suspect of foul play. There is no body, however.

If you’d like a mystery read, try Dete Meserve’s The Space Between. It’s just the kind of page-turner I enjoy – a wife returns to her home after being away on business for a few days, to find her husband missing and what he’s left for her is an unexplained bank deposit of a million dollars, a loaded Glock in the nightstand, and a video security system that’s been wiped clean.

Read Alyson Richman’s historical novel called The Velvet Hours. Most of the book takes place in Paris, with a young woman and her grandmother, a very wealthy (but aging) woman who led a life of a semi-courtesan. Or at least a kept woman. But this grandmother was very astute and found ways to invest her money, to grow her money, and to buy very expensive goods. Then WWII intervenes, and the granddaughter has to close up her grandmother’s apartment, leaving it much the way it had been throughout her grandmother’s life, to escape the Nazis. Years go by, and finally answers are sought and found. An intriguing book, based on the author’s experience with an apartment that had been locked up similarly for decades, also in Paris.

Susan Meissner is one of my favorite authors. This book, The Nature of Fragile Things tells a very unusual story. About a young Irish immigrant, desperate to find a way out of poverty, answers an ad for a mail order bride.

Also read Rachel Hauck’s The Writing Desk. You could call this a romance. A young professional, a writer of one successful book, has writer’s block. Then she’s asked to go to Florida to help her mother (from whom she’s mostly estranged) through chemo. She goes, hoping she can find new inspiration.

Also recently finished The Weight of Ink by Rachel Kadish. The book goes backwards and forwards in time, from the 1600s in London with the day-to-day lives of a group of Jews (who had to be very careful about how they worshiped) to current day as an old house is discovered to hold a treasure-trove of historical papers.

Colleen Hoover has written quite a book, It Ends with Us: A Novel, with a love story being the central theme, but again, this book is not for everyone – it can be an awakening for any reader not acquainted with domestic violence and how such injury can emerge as innocent (sort of) but then becomes something else. There is graphic detail here.

Nicolas Barreau’s novel Love Letters from Montmartre: A Novel  is very poignant, very sweet book. Seems like I’ve read several books lately about grieving; this one has a charming ending, but as anyone who has gone through a grave loss of someone dear knows, you can’t predict day to day, week to week. “Snap out of it,” people say, thinking they’re helping.

Another very quirky book, that happens to contain a lot of historical truth is The Phone Booth at the Edge of the World: A Novel by Harry N. Abrams. Set in Japan just after the tsunami 10 years ago when 18,000 people died. At a private park miles away, some very special people installed a phone booth, with a phone (that didn’t work) at the edge of the park, and the survivors of the tsunami began wending their way there to “talk” to their deceased loved ones. Very poignant story.

No question, the most quirky book I’ve read of late, a recommendation from my friend Karen, West with Giraffes: A Novel by Lynda Rutledge. Back in the 1930s a small group of giraffes were brought across the Atlantic from Africa to New York, destined for the then-growing San Diego Zoo. The story is of their journey across the United States in the care of two oh-so-different people, both with a mission.

Could hardly put down Krueger’s book, This Tender Land: A Novel. Tells the harrowing story of a young boy, Odie, (and his brother Albert) who became orphans back in the 30s. At first there is a boarding school, part of an Indian (Native American) agreement, though they are not Indian. They escape, and they are “on the run.”

Just finished Kristin Hannah’s latest book, The Four Winds: A Novel. What a story. One I’ve never read about, although I certainly have heard about the “dust bowl” years when there was a steady migration of down-and-out farmers from the Midwest, to California, for what they hoped to be the American Dream. It tells the story of one particular family, the Martinellis, the grandparents, their son, his wife, and their two children.

Also finished reading Sue Monk Kidd’s recent book, The Book of Longings: A Novel. It is a book that might challenge some Christian readers, as it tells the tale of Jesus marrying a woman named Mary. I loved the book from the first word to the last one. The book is believable to me, even though the Bible never says one way or the other that Jesus ever married. It’s been presumed he never did. But maybe he did?

Jeanine Cummins has written an eye-opener, American Dirt. A must read. Oh my goodness. I will never, ever, ever look at Mexican (and further southern) migrants, particularly those who are victims of the vicious cartels, without sympathy. It tells the story of a woman and her young son, who were lucky enough to hide when the cartel murdered every member of her family – her husband, her mother, and many others. It’s about her journey and escape to America.

Also read JoJo Moyes’ book, The Giver of Stars. Oh gosh, what a GREAT book. Alice joins the Horseback Librarians in the rural south.

Frances Liardet has written a blockbuster tale, We Must Be Brave. I can’t recommend this book highly enough. Although the scene is WWII England, this book is not really about the war. It’s about the people at home, waiting it out, struggling with enough food, clothing and enough heat.

William Kent Krueger wrote Ordinary Grace. From amazon: a brilliantly moving account of a boy standing at the door of his young manhood, trying to understand a world that seems to be falling apart around him. It is an unforgettable novel about discovering the terrible price of wisdom and the enduring grace of God. It’s a coming of age story.

A Column of Fire: A Novel by Ken Follett. It takes place in the 1500s, in England, and has everything to do with the war between the Catholics and the Protestants, that raged throughout Europe during that time, culminating in the Spanish Inquisition.

My Name Is Resolute by Nancy Turner. She’s the author of another book of some renown, These is my Words:

The Shepherd’s Life: Modern Dispatches from an Ancient Landscape by James Rebanks. This is a memoir, so a true story, of a young man growing up in the Lake District of Northern England, who becomes a shepherd. Not just any-old shepherd – actually a well educated one. He knows how to weave a story.

 

Tasting Spoons

My blog's namesake - small, old and some very dented engraved silver plated tea spoons that belonged to my mother-in-law, and I use them to taste my food as I'm cooking.

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Posted in Travel, on May 18th, 2015.

gruyere_valley_view

It seemed like any way one turned, there was beautiful scenery. That’s just the way it is in Switzerland. Especially in the spring when the grass has that unique hue that means brand new spring growth. Nothing like it.

When most people think of Gruyere, they think of the cheese. Which is one of my go-to cheeses when I want/need lots of flavor, but I don’t want Parmigiano-Reggiano. Gruyere cheese has a nuttiness about it, and it gives lots of depth of flavor not provided by most of the other cheeses of similar types. My friend Joanne, who lived in Geneva for a few years with her family, recommended to me (when I asked her about her favorite gruyere_hotel_viewplaces to visit in Switzerland) that we go/stay in Gruyere. I did research, and we ended up staying in a hotel that’s just off to the right in that picture above. When you enter Gruyere – the main city-town is down below in that valley, but this is the old town with its ubiquitous castle. I was standing on the castle grounds when I took the photo above. You drive up to the old town and there’s a little tiny parking lot there and if you look carefully there was a tiny little lane (another one of those do-not-enter things) telling us if we were staying at the Hotel de Gruyeres, enter here, to a small little private parking lot. The hotel was a sweet little place and just fine for our needs. Warm duvets and a nice breakfast.

we_4_gruyereWe walked up the short hill and onto the main cobblestoned street (in picture at left, closed to vehicles). It is an adorable village with lots of little shops.

I ended up buying a beautiful table runner in one of the shops on the left side. The owner designs her own fabrics, and if I could have, I’d have purchased 4-5 of them, but they were more than pricey, so one was fine! I just took photos of both of the table runners I purchased (one here in Gruyere, the other at Giverny in France) and I think I’ll write up a absinthe_swissseparate post about them since I’d like to use full-sized photos. Those of you who are interested in such things can see them better. At one of the stores they were selling absinthe (photo at right). I know we can buy it now, in some new form that isn’t a a poison, but here they offered it plain or with eggs (like egg nog?). Really? Uh, no, I didn’t buy any.

Anyway, we wandered all over the castle town, in and out of shops. Finally we got to the end of the street and walked up a rather steep grade to the castle entrance. For a nominal price we watched a video (with language translation via headphones) about the history of Gruyere, which was very interesting, then we walked through all the rooms of the castle and out the back side overlooking the valley, and the gardens. We had dinner in the town, at a cute little restaurant at the far end of the street. Cherrie and I shared an entrée of mac and cheese (yes, that’s what the menu said) with a salad. It didn’t agree with us at all and both of us got sick during the night or by morning. (This was not the food poisoning we got on our last day in Paris – this was just a 24-hour thing). In the morning Cherrie and I stayed in our rooms trying to recover while Joan and Darlene drove down into the town of Gruyere to see the cheese factory. Cherrie and I both needed rest for as long as we could. Once we got underway, I managed to drive (I don’t know how, other than I knew Joan really didn’t want to drive, and she was the only other authorized driver). swiss_mountain_roads

Some of the prettiest scenery we saw on the back roads. That was one of my main considerations as I plotted our trip plans for Switzerland, wending our way up hills, down into valleys, all with gorgeous vistas of the snow-capped mountains around us. That’s our rental car, a station wagon. It was a brand new Audi, and it was a dream to drive.

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Photo at right is one of the floors in the castle. Goodness, the hard work that went into creating that floor of equally sized, smooth stones, laid up on their edges, and in a very intricate pattern. Made me think about my favorite book I’ve ever read, The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. It’s about the building of a cathedral in England, but it’s certainly similar to Medieval castles. We just loved Gruyere. The weather couldn’t have been more beautiful and the town itself oozes charm. If you’ve never been there, you should. Thank you, Joanne, for insisting that’s where we should go! A great destination. Not for any length of time – there isn’t much to do, but it’s a very quintessential European village high up in the Alps.

Posted in Travel, on May 14th, 2015.

funicular1_jungfraujoch

This photo above is taken at some of the lower altitudes of the trip. You can board a train in Interlaken, or stay in villages part way up the mountain. Some are closed to auto traffic, but Lauterbrunnen is not.

It only took us a couple of hours to drive from Brienz to Lauterbrunnen. The town is so small you can’t miss your hotel as there aren’t very many. But it’s a twisty, windy road getting there, up through a narrow valley, then up and up until you come to the little plateau that is Lauterbrunnen. We stayed at the Hotel Staubbach. A very cute little place, with several floors of rooms. Maybe 50+ rooms. Not sure, really. Very clean, comfortable. Not luxurious, but more than adequate. The manager was English, so we had no language difficulties! We checked into the hotel, then immediately headed for the train station, close to the hotel. It took us 4 1/2 hours to make the round trip journey up to the top of the Jungfraujoch. From Lauterbrunnen you wend up steep valleys, finally up to Kleine Sheidegg, a place where every train coming in stops. You get off there, transfer to a different track, then get on the funicular that shortly takes you up the mountain.

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About 90% of the way up the mountain the funicular stops at the Ice Window. They explain that you have 5 minutes to run out and get back on. Everybody runs out to the window at the end of a carved wide tunnel to the edge of the mountain. It’s glassed in, and they keep it very clean so you can take good photos.

If you’re interested in the whole history of the region, and about the Eiger (one of the mountain peaks, and the subject of the movie The Eiger Sanction) click on this Wikipedia link. It tells you all about the railway (interesting) and about the building of the tunnel going up inside (amazing). At the top you exit the funicular at 11,332 feet. The minute I stepped off the train I felt dizzy. I don’t do too well at high altitudes – have had a problem with that even when I was a young child. I held onto Joan, I think, and I went into the building that’s up there at the top, jungfraujoch_topfound a place to sit and I just sat while we were up there. I felt that was best. Since this was the 3rd time I’ve been up there, it wasn’t like I needed to hike all around outside. Cherrie wasn’t feeling very good herself, so she and I both just sat down and looked at the gorgeous view. Darlene and Joan, having never been there before, went outside and hiked up and down the steep steps and trails. Darlene bought me a hot chocolate which tasted good. Then we got in line to take the return trip down to Kleine Sheidegg, and then on to Lauterbrunnen.

lauterbrunnen_viewAt left is another view from way up at the top, looking down the glacier. Every direction had spectacular views. It was a perfect day – cold, but clear and sunny. Couldn’t have asked for better weather, actually.

On our way down a middle-aged man and teenaged boy came into the small area where we were on the train, and the dad turned to the 4 of us girls and said – “excuse me, but I need to take my pants off.” I don’t know what we said or squealed, but immediately he said “not to worry, I have another layer on underneath.” He and his son had been snowboarding all day, something they do for 4-5 days every year and he needed to remove his heavy-weight pants. They were from England. The son fell sound asleep, so we had a nice conversation with the dad all the way down the hill. Picture at right was the view one direction from our hotel. So very pretty. Pastoral.

That night we went to a German restaurant a few blocks away from our hotel, had a nice enough meal, though it was very noisy. I think Darlene ordered cheese fondue. I think I had salad. Hard to talk, it was so noisy and crowded. We all slept well, and met early in the morning for our next journey. Off we went to Gruyere.

Posted in Travel, on May 10th, 2015.

wine_on_the_terrace_grandhotel_giessbach

All those smiles are genuine. We were pinching ourselves at the beauty of this hotel and our location. In the sunshine, it felt like the temperature was in the low 50s, I think, but once the sun tipped below the mountain we were positively COLD. We’d ordered drinks and the waitress kindly took a picture of the four of us. We had a grand time at the Grandhotel Giessbach.

After doing our ferry ride around Lake Lucerne, we drove south. Not far. The GPS was still set to keep us off the autobahn, so we grandhotel_giessbach_roomkeymeandered in and through lots of little villages as we headed toward Brienz. This hotel was not a place I’d stayed before, but when I searched for places to stay in and around Brienz, all I remembered was how pretty the lake was, though in years past Dave and I had driven around the lake, not up the mountains there at all. I chose the hotel after reading reviews on Trip Advisor. Reservations were made just as the hotel was closing up last fall, but the owner was kind enough to keep looking at email once I told her we were about to book 4 rooms.

We approached the hotel from behind the mountain, on a narrow lane leading up over a pass (at about 500 feet above the valley below), then we all-of-a-sudden came into view of the lake and we gasped. Wow. Stunning. We parked the car beside the hotel and trudged our bags on little trolleys (like in airports) which they had in the parking lot. As we came around the front of the hotel, here’s what it looks like:

grandhotel_giessbach_brienz

The hotel had only been open a few days, for the beginning of the “season.” All of us had rooms up on the 3rd floor (for Americans, that’s the 4th floor). It’s a grand old hotel – combining some of the charming décor of Switzerland and some of Victorian. Our rooms were very nice. And when we got to our rooms, and I walked over to the window, opened them, this is the picture I took.

view_from_grandhotel_giessbach

To say I was in awe is hardly strong enough. I could not believe how beautiful it was. And the rooms weren’t that expensive; at least we all felt they were worth every penny. Of course, we were there somewhat off season in April, so probably it’s more expensive closer to summer.

wine_glasses_terrace

After we got situated in our rooms, and all took a little rest, we decided to meet for cocktails on the terrace. Darlene took this photo at left, as we sat on the terrace. I was having prosecco and Darlene ordered white wine. We moved inside after awhile because it was just a bit too cold.

We were all in heaven. It was just so beautiful. Special. We were living in the moment as we listened to the waterfall (off to the left in the pictures – I took a photo of it, but it wasn’t all that pretty, but it offered lovely ambient sound).

We joked around with the waiter and waitress – since the season was newly opened, the employees were very jovial and helpful. Darlene has an intensely curious mind, and asks questions of everybody. The hotel is old, and although it’s been renovated over the years, it still has that old-world feeling to it.

At right (below) is a photo of the lobby and bar. We loved the circular winding staircase. It did have an elevator too, for which we were grateful. Darlene is there at left, quizzing the bartender about something.

After enjoying our cocktails, we went into the dining room and had a wonderful dinner. Sometimes we chose the tourist menu – a first course, a second course and dessert. This time we ate light (my notes say we did) but we did enjoy a chocolate dessert our waiter just insisted we must have. Darlene tried to say the name of it in German, and had the waiter in hysterics at grandhotel_giessbach_lobbyher crazy pronunciation. It was a 3-course chocolate dessert with 3 small plates of things, all chocolate of course. Very delicious. What I wrote in my notes is: schlotz chafer flokken. I have no clue if that’s even close to what they were saying. Schlotz is cream. Chafer is probably really choc something (for chocolate). Flokken? No idea!

The next morning we went to the dining room for the included breakfast. Oh my, was it ever fabulous. I love the real-thing muesli of Switzerland. Not the dried stuff we buy here. No, this is the kind you make with dried oatmeal, soaking it overnight in yogurt, then adding dried fruits, fresh fruits and nuts. Maybe even coconut. Theirs was so delicious. The fresh bread was divine – they do such a nice presentation of bread – they lay it out on a bread board with a napkin laying over the top of the bread so as you grasp it to slice off a piece, you’re not putting your germs onto the rest of the loaf. We loved their seeded baguette loaf. Extra delicious. And the butter. Oh gosh was it ever good too. Almost everywhere we went we were served croissants, and most mornings I had one. So did we all. Then they had everything under the sun, hard boiled eggs, soft boiled eggs, ham, salami, cheeses, fruits or all kinds, yogurt, jams. Everything. After breakfast Joan went for a short walk on a lovely trail nearby. We were ALL sad to leave – we wished we could have stayed here another night. But we had to get going.grandhotel_giessbach_view_patio

Just one more spectacular view from the lower terrace. Everywhere we looked, the view was breathtaking.

We wended our trolleys back out to the parking lot and loaded our bags in and off we went.  On the way back over the backside of the mountain, this was the view of the other side. swiss_lake_viewThat photo at right is so quintessential Switzerland. Snow capped mountains. A lovely small lake, pretty little villages. Green grass. Beautiful.

Next stop, Lauterbrunnen.

Posted in Travel, on May 8th, 2015.

lake_lucerne_spring_flowers

No credit here with my camera – no, my friend Darlene took this picture, and isn’t it stunning? That’s looking across the lake, at the city of Lucerne. Obviously spring was in full bloom, grass was greening, and it was COLD. In the sun, that day, it wasn’t bad at all, but in the shade you knew it was in the 40s.

To backtrack just a bit, after leaving Matera, in southern Italy, Joan, Tom and their granddaughter Lauren and I drove back to Rome. Tom turned in the rental car and we all stayed at the Hilton Hotel at the Fiumicino Rome airport. It’s literally steps from the terminal. All my devices got charged, I had a first class shower, I rearranged my packing system to put colder-weather clothing at the top. I put on my Land’s End thermal undershirt, my vest and carried my raincoat. The next morning Joan and I (on different Swiss Air flights) flew from Rome to Zurich. Tom & Lauren flew home. I was the last one to arrive in Zurich – Darlene had flown from the U.S. the day before to get a leg up on jet lag, and Cherrie flew in that morning. We all met, by plan, at the Europcar rental counter. It was like a family reunion – we were all so happy to be there and all very excited about our next 2 weeks together.

lake_lucerneAfter we got the GPS working correctly (in English), I input our destination (Lucerne) and off we went. I didn’t put this little bit of advice in my whole post about travel recommendations, but I can’t encourage you enough, get a GPS (hopefully one that’s built-in, not a portable one) in your rental car. It makes SUCH a difference, no matter the cost. As a little side note, I’ll just tell you that all the brochures in our Audi station wagon were in German. No English or Italian, so the booklets were useless to us all!

I’m quite good with navigating and I have a good sense of direction, but in a foreign country, with German signs, not so much! Darlene was the right seat navigator, and she did a great job – she saved our bacon several times noticing some tiny little sign directing us to our hotels.

The first thing I did was program the GPS to NOT go on toll roads and the autobahn. Two reasons: (1) the most beautiful scenery in Switzerland is in the towns and villages and in the country side, not on the freeways; (2) Switzerland charges a flat fee for using the autobahn – for visitors it’s something like $30-40 for a month’s pass. Not that we couldn’t have paid it, but why? We were there to see the countryside. We aren’t sure, but we think we actually ended up on the autobahn a couple of times – but it was only for one exit’s worth. We don’t know whether there wasn’t any other way, or if we made a mistake. The GPS routed us that way, so we just took the chance.

Planning this 6-day portion of our trip was my job. We did: Zurich to Lucerne to Brienz to Lauterbrunnen, to Gruyere and to Talloires (actually in France, but it’s very close to Geneva).

4_girls_chapel_bridge

There’s the 4 of us – from the left: Joan, Cherrie, me, and Darlene standing on the river quay with the famous Chapel Bridge behind us.

I did the driving in Switzerland, with the exception of about 15-20 minutes worth one day when I wasn’t feeling very good. Joan drove for that short distance. I’m fine with driving in foreign countries. I’m fine with driving in countries that drive on the opposite side of the road. Dave and I did many trips to the British Isles, and we learned to coach each other with turns, lane changes, roundabouts, and such. Switzerland has adopted the roundabout in a big way – on some of the small highways we encountered them about every 300 feet it seemed like. But we definitely saw the countryside in all its beauty. It was a warmer spring than usual, so the spring flowers were sprouting, grass was the brilliant green I remember from previous trips, the trees were budding except at the higher elevations, yet the mountains were still draped in snow.

chapel_bridge_lucerneThe drive from the Zurich airport to Lucerne is about an hour, but since we used back roads (and made a wrong turn or two – I was far from perfect even with the GPS) it took us a couple of hours to get there. But it was beautiful, and everywhere we looked we could see high snow-capped peaks, and take in the beautiful 2-story typical Swiss homes. Nobody had any window boxes out yet – such a regular sighting all over Switzerland in the spring and summer – homeowners take great pride in having the brightest and most colorful flowers hung from their upstairs windows.

hotel_des_balances_lucerneApproaching Lucerne, my hands gripped the steering wheel – I was tense, I’ll admit. But the GPS routed us well, even displaying which lane we needed to be in (a real help in cities). She didn’t always do that, but when she did, I was very grateful! Had I not printed out the directions from the hotel’s website, I don’t think we’d have ever found out how to get to our hotel. We had to drive across the river from the hotel, down the main street, make a tiny little turn into what looked like an alley, zigzag through a couple of little streets, then approach a very narrow 2-lane bridge that went back into the old city (which is generally closed to car traffic) that has very glaring sign saying no entry. But there was a little sign (Darlene, bless her heart, saw it when nobody else did) saying if you’re staying at Hotel des Balances, you are allowed entry. She got us right to the door. We hefted our bags out, checked in and a very kind young man took our car off to some parking garage. Of course, that was extra, but it was worth every single penny!

We were all a little frazzled (hopefully not from my driving, but just general fatigue from all of us flying in, finding one another, the stress of getting situated in the car with our bags – tight – driving in the busy traffic of Zurich, trying to recognize different road signs from our own U.S. signs, hoping we weren’t doing anything wrong). Once we got to the hotel we all wanted to take a little risotto_cherrie_lucernerest. Cherrie was in serious jet lag, having just arrived that morning, and having had no sleep for about 20 hours or so. We decided to meet for an early drink in the lovely bar at the hotel. I’d wanted us to stay at the Hotel Gutsch (in picture above, up on the small mountain top – you get to it by a funicular (although you can drive to it from the back side of the hill). But alas, it was just too expensive for our economy-minded foursome. But we were very happy with where I did book us – at the Hotel des Balances, which is right ON the river, has a gorgeous view, with rooms facing the river (more expensive) or the interior (all of us) which overlooked the cute old town walking streets. We were all giddy with excitement that evening. The bartender was very funny, young, and he flirted with all of us. He made lots of points with all of us old ladies! The hotel offered a free welcome cocktail – I don’t remember now what it was, but it was good and we enjoyed it. See picture down below of us all with our cocktails in hand. We had lunch the next day at one of the quayside restaurants (they’re literally one right after another), and Cherrie ordered risotto (picture at left), one of her favorite things. I think most of us took a sample – wow, it was good with peas and fresh asparagus.

old_swiss_house_breaded_veal_bread_crumbsSince I’d been to Lucerne 3-4 times before, I decided that since this was Easter Sunday, we should have a celebration dinner. I’d made reservations months before for that night at the Old Swiss House, a venerable establishment in Lucerne (spelled Luzern there, and pronounced loo-ZEHRN). This was my third visit to the restaurant and it was only about 10-11 blocks’ walk from our hotel. It took a little bit of looking to find it, but we did. We enjoyed a wonderful dinner there, with Cherrie and me ordering the dish that the restaurant is most famous for, their breaded veal.

They dip the thinly pounded veal into an egg bath, then into bread crumbs and into a hot sizzling pan right at the tableside. Can I just tell you that to make two plates of those (right) the server/chef used almost a whole cube of butter. First some to brown the veal, then more to brown the 2nd side, then more to toast and brown the additional bread crumbs, then a bit more to lubricate the spaghetti. Oh my, was it good! I couldn’t finish it. And yes, welcome_drink_hotel_in_lucerneit was ridiculously expensive, but veal just is. It was a special evening.

After a good night’s sleep we got up and out – we took a ferry ride around part of Lake Lucerne. I’d told everyone that it’s worth doing, and since the weather was picture-perfect, we boarded one of the numerous ferries and went to 2-3 different quays, then returned. We got off at one of the places and walked around a little bit. Darlene snapped the top photo there. Cherrie and I found a wonderful bench, in the sunshine and visited, while Joan and Darlene went hiking all over the little town.

Once back in Lucerne, we collected our luggage, the sweet little man brought our car around and we started off on our next adventure. First I programmed the GPS, and off we went.

Our destination was Lake Brienz. It was breathtaking, and  you’ll see why when you read my next post.

Posted in Travel, on May 2nd, 2015.

matera_view1

The town of Matera, in southern Italy. Matera is a very unique little city, with houses piled one atop another, but all of them dug into the solid rock sides of the little canyon. Most of them are uninhabitable now, although some have been remodeled, fortified so they’re safe.

After leaving Ostuni, where we stayed in the Trulli masseria, we drove a few hours to Matera, toward the west into Basilicata. Southern Italy is a poor part of Italy, and back in the day, these crude carved hovels of homes dug into the rocks were even then hardly considered homes; yet thousands lived there. At some time in the recent past the government forced people to move out – and paid for them to be housed elsewhere. Some of the dwellings have been repaired, but probably most of them have not.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/bc/Sassi_di_Matera_aprile06_05.jpg

matera_view_3The photo at right I copied from Wikipedia. The old town of Matera is a narrow canyon, and the caves were fronted with a façade, an entrance, with a door and maybe a window. They rise up on both sides, networked with tiny passageways, and jillions of steps.

The photo at left was one fairly level area. Because Tom & Joan lived in Italy for a couple of years, back about 20 years ago, they have some Italian language skills, so we were able to wend our way into the canyon, up a very narrow street that ended a few hundred feet further on. The natives pointed to a set of cobblestone steps. And no, the car couldn’t stay there. We were told we could park on the street long enough to get our luggage out and up, but then Tom had to go find parking someplace else.

Then we began our ascent up. And up. And up. I really didn’t count how many steps we took UP, but I’m guessing it was in the 90s. All somewhat primitive cobblestones, rounded, some flat, uneven for sure! Tom carried my suitcase for me. THANK YOU, Tom! I took my carry-on and my raincoat and my purse. And up we went. We stopped to take a photo or two, and finally, we came to the hotel, L’hotel in Pietra. It has good ratings on Trip Advisor. The rooms are absolutely gorgeous, and inexpensive. My room, #1006, was 95 euro. hotel_in_pietra_room

The bathroom, you can see there straight ahead, was dug further into the rock and was very low ceilinged (rock), and the big walk-in square shower was behind the door.

The walls were the raw stone, but done nicely, and the room was very cosy. Warm. Inviting. It’s a small hotel – they have about 10 units or so, I believe, and they vary in price depending on how big they are.

The biggest disadvantage to Matera is that nothing is very easy to get to. There are cobblestone paths every which way, up a few steps, down a few, over a few, around corners, up, and up some more. Obviously if you live here, you’ll get to know the passageways like the back of your hand. The rest of my group did go on a guided walking tour of Matera (I opted out, just to be on the safe side with my foot). My guess is that residents of Matera are all heart-healthy because of all the climbing and walking they must do in their little town, every day.

We had dinner in a restaurant that was a kind of winding path to get to. Fortunately it wasn’t too many steps up further than the hotel. We used an elevator at one point to get to the top.

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My room did have that one itty-bitty little window (see photo at right) – it could be closed, but I left it open all night. There was a big window up high in the room (up above my bed and to the right in the outside wall) which provided plenty of light. stairs_matera

As you can see, some of the steps are wide and long, and most had a center groove for drainage. But all, and I mean all, of the flat surfaces were uneven. Rocks are the way of life in Basilicata, so they use them every way they can. No cement for them – they used their free resources!

I think one night in Matera is probably enough. At the most two, with a full day of walking around all over the town. Fortify yourself with water and some snack food as you’d expend a lot of energy going everywhere!

tortellini_cheese_matera

While everyone else went on the walking tour, I wended my way down the steps to the small main street of town and found a little restaurant recommended by the hotel. I don’t remember what this was called, but it had 3 different kinds of pasta in it – little spirals, the little ears (conciglie?) and a few tube-type ones. It had a sauce of tomatoes, mushrooms and cheese. It was a bit on the dry side, so I didn’t eat but about half of it. It was tasty, though. And I think I ordered a Coca-Cola. Precious stuff Cokes are in other parts of the world. Here I think I paid about $4 for it. In Paris I think I paid $8 at one place. I ordered a Coca-Cola about 8 times on the trip, I would guess. Mostly we drank water.

Posted in Travel, on April 28th, 2015.

travel_log

Do you keep a travel log when you take a trip? Especially if I’m abroad I do. I just kept a short running commentary of notes about what I did each day and what I had to eat.

At the Masseria Cervarolo, we enjoyed two wonderful dinners; multi-course gastronomic enjoyment. I can’t tell you exactly what I ate, and some of the photos were way too dark to enhance.

But, what I am going to tell you about is fava beans. I can recall, growing up, at Italian festivals in Rhode Island. I lived there from about age 14-16, and I ate some marinated fava beans. The kind that you squeeze between your thumb and forefinger and out pops a nice big kernel of bean. It was good. But here in California I almost never see jars of fava beans. You can buy plain, canned fava beans, though. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen fresh fava beans.

So, enter Puglia in the picture, and fava beans played a very frequent dinner role. We had fava beans multiple times while we were there. And what they do with them is cook them and puree them into a kind of mashed potato consistency. I suspect they add garlic, seasonings (although only once did we see anything like herbs in the puree), some broth or water and most likely some amount of olive oil. And then they cook some kind of bitter greens to put on top. I did find a recipe online that looks much like the dishes we had in Puglia. It seems that this fava bean dish with cooked chicory is unique to Puglia. I think (someone correct me if I’m wrong) that when fresh, fava beans are very green – so I think this was dried fava_bean_escarole_red_onionfava beans, which turn a light brown once they’ve dried and hardened up. For certain it was chicory season, so that may be why we had it so often.

At right is a photo of the first one we were served. And I wrote escarole on the photo, but I think it was chicory (same family). They drizzled a bit of olive oil on top. For awhile we didn’t know what that mound of puree was – we thought mashed potatoes until we tasted it. Definitely not potatoes. Finally one of the waitresses explained about fava beans.

We all cleaned our plates it was SO good.

The next day we ventured out to a city 20-30 miles away and our group went on a walking tour. I decided not to do that only because I was concerned about overdoing it with my foot. After their tour they came and got me and we had lunch out at a  trattoria a few blocks away. IMG_0606We ordered fresh grilled vegetables, which were plentiful in nearly all the trattorias. I couldn’t get enough of them. They prepared eggplant, peppers, onions, leeks, zucchini, tomatoes, sometimes mushrooms, sometimes sun dried tomatoes, all grilled and drizzled with olive oil. And guess what? They brought us a plate of fava bean puree that was done just slightly differently. This one was more chunky (see left). Still chicory on top, but they served it with garlic croutons on top. We also had a platter of salami (salume or salumi in Italian) and cheeses too. We couldn’t believe it when we were done – we’d eaten nearly everything they brought out. All with lots of bread. bread_and_snailsBread is the staff of life, and there’s no doubt in my mind that I ate more bread in those  3 weeks than I’ve eaten in the last year. It was so fresh, so yeasty, so tasty. None of us could stop eating it.

There at right was a small basket of bread with the little snail-things in the middle. Those are a frequent cracker. I can’t remember what they call them – snails, shells, or worms, or something like that. We ate those too. They’re crispy like crackers. The grilled breads were the best, by far. And a bottle of olive oil was nearby so you could drizzle some on top. No butter.

fava_bean_garbanzo_pastaHere is yet another fava bean dish. This one had a mound of it in the center of the plate, but then they’d made a sauce with onions, I think, garlic, garbanzo beans, mushrooms and some little flat pieces of pasta. All that poured over the puree of fava beans you can seein the middle. It was absolutely scrumptious, and I had to talk to myself out of eating the entire plate. This was one of the courses at the Masseria.

fava_bean_greensHere again, at right, is another fava bean dish with a piece of mushroom plunked on top, and 4 lovely mounds of greens around the outside. This one wasn’t my favorite – the puree was too thick. I ate all the greens, though, and they were good.

As in many places, it’s hard to get enough vegetables when you’re eating out all the time. At the Masseria, roasted_grilled_veggieswe did have a course of grilled vegetables. Picture at left. We had eggplant, zucchini, leeks and chanterelles. It was really delicious and since we all knew we weren’t getting enough veggies, we ate most of it. Yet we knew we had several more courses to come.

caprese_sandwiches_AlberobelloMore than once we ordered caprese sandwiches – they’re very inexpensive and almost always the trattoria served them with a bowl of local olives. It was fresh mozzarella, always, and slices of fresh tomato, all very tasty and ripe, and a drizzle of olive oil and maybe a slice or two of fresh basil leaves, or sprinkled with some dried Italian herbs.

gnocchi_tomatoes_peas_masseria_cervaroloI think I’ve mentioned before that I’m not a fan of gnocchi. Well, at the Masseria one of the courses was gnocchi, and I looked at the plate, thought “oh dear.” I didn’t want to not eat it at all, so I thought I’d pick at it, move it around on the plate as children do, but I did take one gnocchi. OMGosh. This was unlike any gnocchi I’ve ever had. All I can tell you is they tasted like little pillows of pasta softness. They were absolutely fantastic. The peas and tomatoes along with it was a perfect pairing. I ate most of it. I’ve never had gnocchi that were so good.

On occasion in the mid-lauren_gelatoafternoon we’d all have a craving for a little something – maybe a gelato, as you can see in the photo at left of Lauren with a double scoop. She fell in love with gelato (doesn’t everyone?). That particular day Lauren was the only one who had room for any as we’d just had a big lunch. espresso_masseria_cervarolo

One day I craved an espresso, so at the Masseria they had a lovely espresso machine and I made myself one and dipped into the jar of cantucci (little cookies) that Italians like to accompany an espresso.

If you’ve ever watched Italians standing at an espresso bar – most of them are stand-up only at a tall counter –  it’s just a place to get an espresso, throw it down and leave. First they pick up the sugar dispenser (no packets, this is the real thing, a big glass jar with a special spout) and they pour in about 1/4 CUP of sugar, stir it around and down it in one big gulp. cornetto

At the Masseria, they offered a huge table of breakfast food, full of cold cuts, salami, a daily frittata (room temp), hard boiled eggs,masseria_cervarolo_latte several fresh breads and jams, fresh mozzarella, fresh tomatoes, fresh ricotta cheese, the wonderful cornetto (Italian croissants) and at least 2 dessert cakes. When I asked for a latte, they always brought it in a tall glass. It was lovely. If we’d really eaten our fill, we could have gone from breakfast until dinner without additional food, but we never did! We breakfast_plate_masseriaalways needed more food around 1:00 or so.

There’s my breakfast plate at left – from the top: tomato, ricotta, ham, mozzarella, frittata and then a slice of the lemon layer cake topped with powdered sugar. On another plate I cut fresh bread and had a croissant. So much food. Way too much food!

I have more food pictures but I think this post is long enough. Hope you haven’t been bored. . .

Posted in Essays, Travel, on April 26th, 2015.

Every time I travel I seem to have odd frustrations or difficulties. Maybe not big ones, but traveling in Europe, especially traveling in old-world countries where you’re staying in old hotels or inns that aren’t Hiltons, or even European mega-hotels, you’re going to find oddities in every place you stay. Here’s my little bit of (sage?) advice. Every trip, I come home with things I need to remember for the next trip.

1. European countries don’t all use the same plugs. I knew that – I’ve traveled abroad many, many times. And there’s a difference between an adapter and a converter – I only needed an adapter as all my electronics are low voltage so I didn’t need to convert from 220. So, I took just one adapter plug which I’d purchased recently that SAID it would work in all plugs in Europe (except Britain). Wrong. Britain has its own very big cumbersome plug. We didn’t go to Britain so I was fine with that part. But even in mainland Europe, you’ll find three different kinds of plugs – Image result for converter plugsthe old 2-prong, and a newer thick bodied indented 2-prong with a ground and a 3-prong type in Switzerland only. I had the one with the ground, and I didn’t take the old-fashioned little 2-prong one. I didn’t have the Switzerland one, but the 2-prong did work in one plug in each hotel in the 3-prong plug. But even if you DID have the 2 (or 3) different kinds of plugs used mostly in Europe, it was problematical everywhere I went, to find an outlet. The photo at right I found on the internet – not sure what the red X’s meant, but wanted you to get an idea about the so very different configurations! Also, old hotels don’t have many outlets. Sometimes you have to move furniture to find where the lamp was plugged in, for instance. Sometimes the only  outlet that would charge was in the bathroom. But some of those were only for razors and NOT electronic devices. But then, sometimes I’d find my iPhone just wouldn’t charge. The lamp worked, but it wouldn’t work to charge a phone. Rick Steves had one very clever idea – use some duct tape to hold your American plug into the adapter, so you don’t accidentally leave behind your adapter plug. I only took 4 electronic devices (iPhone, iPod – that I listen to when I’m trying to go to sleep, my Kindle and my Canon battery charger). All had different cables and outlets. So Rick Steves’ advice wouldn’t have worked since I had to switch them every day or two. Two of the adapters connected to a USB, so I took my one Apple USB square plug that fit into the adapter. My problem was that my adapter was the wrong type in most of the hotels. Fortunately, Tom (Joan’s husband) let me use his and when he flew home from Rome, he handed it to me and I was able to use it the remainder of the trip. It was a multi-purpose plug and you turn a knob and out pop different kinds of plug configurations. I think I have one of those somewhere here at home in my big overflowing travel drawer – but obviously I hadn’t taken it along! Just one more thing to remember. Here’s a link to a website that gives very specific info about plugs. Do ask at the hotel front desk for plugs – sometimes they offer them.

2. When you travel in Europe, eating out mostly, it’s hard to get vegetables. I love vegetables. No, I’m not a vegetarian at all. But just as we have the same problem here in the U.S., not many restaurants offer side vegetables. Often entrees are served with just meat and a carb. No veggies. So, you have to expect the same in Europe. It’s hard to get veggies. Salads are available – and we ate them in abundance in many cities we visited. Veggies were harder to find and if you do find them, they’re often a fried appetizer (not my favored way to eat them). My advice: if  you have any kind of problem with getting sufficient fiber in your diet, take along something over-the-counter.

3. Don’t forget Pepto Bismol or Imodium. I took a package of the latter along just in case, but then I gave it all to Cherrie when she got sick in Switzerland. Fortunately I didn’t need it, but as soon as I got home I came down with an intestinal bug. I made a quick trip to the drug store. Cherrie and I both arrived home with some kind of bug. Not from food because it didn’t begin until 18-24 hours after our last meal in Paris. It was a kind of bacterial flu bug, I guess. I’m still under the weather as I write this 7 days after getting home. Some doctors will now give you a prescription for Cipro when you’re going to travel, a heavy-duty, multi-use antibiotic. I didn’t have any and would be reluctant to use it unless I was very sick. It’s a very strong drug. Cherrie visited her dr. a couple of days ago and she told her not to use Imodium because it can easily be over-done and then you have the reverse problem. Her dr. recommended Pepto instead, which you can buy in liquid (probably not the best choice when when traveling), capsules or chewables.

4. Only a few hotels have room safes unless you’re staying in very high end hotels. Mostly I wasn’t. My cell phone went with me everywhere, even though I left it turned off a lot of the time. And my Kindle slipped into my purse most days. The only item I left in my hotel room was my iPod which I hid as best I could. Someone mentioned on our trip that hotel safes aren’t all that “safe” either. I bought a new purse for this trip – a nice-enough Brighton (black fabric, flat) that had room for my iPhone and my Kindle. I wore it cross-body, which most people do anyway. I kept it zipped up and never had anything valuable in the outside compartments or zippered slots. We actually never encountered any gypsies on this trip, which was very unusual. We saw a few homeless sitting on the ground with a money cup, but that was it, and only in Paris.

5. Be sure to have some money in local currency. On this trip I only needed euros and Swiss francs. I found an envelope in my travel stuff with about 40 euros in it. That meant I didn’t have to find a money exchange or an ATM at the airport. Sometimes at the airport there are long lines. Currently, the best “deal” according to advice websites, is to use ATM machines to get money, which I did exclusively. In Europe, ATM machines are everywhere (only exception might be a very tiny village). And some banks are now offering no-fee international ATM usage. I think Capitol One is one of them, and USAA, I’ve heard. When I left Switzerland, I used my last Swiss francs as part of the hotel bill, and the balance was charged to my credit card. (Oh, and by the way, American Express is often refused at hotels and restaurants all across Europe. I may be giving up my AE card when Costco’s AE membership credit card will no longer work next year.) I came home with about another 40 euro. That will go back into my safe for my next trip. Or I’ll sell them to Cherrie who is going on a 7-week family trip to Europe in about 4-5 weeks.  Don’t buy foreign currency at a bank here at home. They rip you off on the conversion.

6. Every hotel/inn we stayed in, including our apartment in Lyon, had hair dryers. That was a big boon. Even small hair dryers take up lots of suitcase space. And extra suitcase space we did NOT have! If they didn’t have one in the room, all we had to do was ask at the front desk and they’d hand us one.

21_inch_bags_red7. We all traveled with one 21-inch spinner suitcase and a carry-on. This is a newer size, with 4 spinner-wheels. And it’s a deeper suitcase. If you think 21-inches, you may be gasping that no, you couldn’t possibly. But these new ones really are deeper and some have a zipper extension you can use also. I can’t tell you how great this was. A very worthwhile investment. Mostly they’re made to fit in the overhead as carry-on baggage. Another important reason is that European cars have short trunk space. When we rented cars in Italy and Switzerland, we had station wagons in both places (non-standard – thanks to Tom who arranged both rental cars for us). In the rear we were able to fit all 4 of the 21-inch suitcases and 2 of the carry-ons (3 straight in, one sideways across the back and 2 carry-ons stuffed in). Joan had a backpack that sat at her feet, and my carry-on was flat on top, so it became the armrest in the middle in the back seat. If you’re traveling alone, you’ll have no difficulty. But with 4 of us, it made for a bit of squeezing. We all took a similar bag and a carry-on. (We had a meeting about this before we left the U.S. because I knew from previous trips that trunk space was going to be a problem with any rental car.) My carry-on slipped over the handle extension of my suitcase. On my flight home, when I packed my heavier raincoat and my minor purchases into the suitcase, it was very tight. So, I did unzip the extender. In that configuration, my suitcase would easily tip over frontwards, but once I plopped the carry-on on top, it would stay upright. Two of us had red bags. The 4-spinner wheels made for very easy walking long distances from terminal to terminal and mostly, once we arrived at a new destination. I checked my suitcase – I never intended to take it on board a plane –  because I had in my suitcase several liquids that were more than 1.3 ounces (sun screen, shampoo, aerosol hairspray, etc.) which are no-nos. We also walked distances from our car into hotels, or when we did train travel, from taxi to platforms, platform to taxi. Those spinner bags are now a necessity in my book. FYI: For my 22 days abroad, for my clothing, this including what I was wearing: I had 3 pairs of slacks, 8 tops [including the thermal undershirt and one slightly more dressy kind of top], underwear for 5 days, a pullover sweater, vest, raincoat with hood [no umbrella], 3 thin “pretty” scarves, 1 pair of leggings, 1 pair of thermal leggings, 1 longer sleep t-shirt, 2 pairs of socks, 1 extra pair of shoes, 1 warm neck scarf and 1 pair of gloves – that I wore only 1 day. I wore everything except the thermal leggings. Next trip I’ll forget the leggings, all but 1 dressy scarf, replace the raincoat with a thermal windbreaker of some kind. I washed underwear and socks often but they all dried overnight with no difficulty. Thank goodness for heated towel racks in a couple of places. If the trip would be in warm weather that would change significantly the packing needs, obviously.

8. Don’t pack heavy stuff in your carry-on. There’s a lot of walking involved in airports these days, and especially for international travel. It’s just the way it is. And if you travel much, you already know there are long security lines as well. My carry-on is just a fabric type with 2 handles and a shoulder strap. I carried my cosmetics (all items within the 1.3 ounce limit) in there. And my travel pillow. My important travel docs for all the trip planning I’d done for Switzerland. And a paperback book (just in case my Kindle had a problem or during the time when you can’t use electronic devices). My purse actually would fit in there as well, and I took this other cute plane-purse thing that I hung at my airplane seat (see #10 below).

9. Traditional raincoats are out. I took a black London Fog raincoat that has a semi-fuzzy lining (not removable). Everyone else wore a kind of a padded, warm windbreaker style, and I’d say that 98% of everyone we saw in all 3 countries were wearing the same. So my regular raincoat will go into the rarely-used jacket closet henceforth. For my next cooler-weather trip I’ll probably need to buy something new. Some designers now make a thin puffy-coat that mushes down to next to nothing and fits into a small square and packs easily. Darlene had one she bought at Nordstrom.

10. My Samantha Brown packing system was great. And particularly I loved the small purse that you use on the airplane (which can be used as a regular purse on your travels; it’s small, though). There’s a photo I found on ebay for one sold separately. To buy new, you Clever-SAMANTHA-BROWN-Lightweight-Nylon-Crossbody-handbag-Convertible-for-TRAVELhave to buy the whole set: Burgundy Samantha Brown 6-piece Travel Survival Kit. There are many colors (mine was bright red I bought at HSN) to choose from. I used all the pieces which are a heavy-duty water-resistant polyester, I suppose. But I particularly loved the little 7×8” purse that you hook onto the airline seatback in front of you. It held: my Kindle, my lip moisturizer, a little vial of Tylenol, a tiny bag of snack food, Kleenex and my prescriptions I would need to take in flight. There would be room for a tiny bottle of water, but only if I removed the Kindle. The other pieces in the set (that goes into the suitcase) include two sleeves for slacks or other clothes, an underwear bag with a “wear me” on one side, and “wash me” on the other – easy to keep everything in one place and you knew each day how many clean clothes you had left. The thicker cube was for tops/shirts. I was able to fit 8 of them in there. Unpacking my suitcase was a real breeze – sometimes I did that and put the packs/cubes into a drawer or shelf. Other times, one-night-stays, I left everything intact and it made for very neat and quick re-packing. I like the system. In a bright color there was no way I’d forget it. I’m very impressed with the Samantha Brown packing system. I also bought the accessories kit – one additional packing case that contains 3 small cubes inside. In there I stored my charging cables, my adapter plug, my camera battery charger, scarves, jewelry and a Ziploc bag with all of my miscellaneous small liquid things I needed (hair gel, extra shampoo, the aerosol hairspray, body lotion – a few hotels didn’t provide any – and my moderate sized tube of sun screen that I need to wear every day because I’m so fair skinned). And also the two small pieces of jewelry I took and barely wore.

11. If you’re so inclined, do get a Global Entry pass. It costs $100 for 5 years (and takes about 4-6 weeks to get it, including an in-person interview at only some border patrol locations set up around the U.S., to do the Global Entry screening), and probably isn’t worth it if you don’t do a moderate amount of travel. And it doesn’t help anywhere but in the United States (leaving and returning) so it didn’t help as we arrived in Italy, left Italy, arrived in Switzerland, or flew out from Paris) but it was SO fast getting through passport control at LAX, both departing and returning. On our return, they have kiosks now in the international area (more for Global Entry pass holders and fewer for those who don’t). You slide your passport in and it snaps a photo of you, you tick a few things on the screen and it’s a breeze. We walked right through and out to baggage pickup.

12. It used to be that Europeans wore dark clothes about 8 months of the year. Not so anymore. My wardrobe was all planned around black and brown, mostly black. My coat was black. My sweater was black. My vest was black. Two of my tops were plain black. We saw people wearing all kinds of colors and nobody stared like they used to. I can remember on previous trips feeling embarrassed because I was wearing even a brightly designed (maybe still in black/brown and white) blouse. Now everybody wears just about anything. Although we didn’t see white pants or even light color slacks. But everyone wore brighter colors in shirts and tops. And coats were in every color of the rainbow (except white).

Women Short Sleeve Thermaskin Heat Scoopneck13. My favorite 2 pieces of clothing were my velour vest and my Land’s End Thermaskin short-sleeved undershirt. I wore them both about 16 of the 22 days I was gone.  The black thin undershirt (pictured right – and it also comes in white) was perfect for cooler days and has a longer length so it keeps tucked in, and I think I’ll be wearing it lots here at home on colder winter days. If I wore a v-neck top over it, it looked fine if the scoop neck showed. The vest I’ve had for years – it’s a longer style so my tops didn’t hang down below (even though that’s very current style), and it was fuzzy enough to provide lots of warmth if I zipped it up. I also took the Thermaskin leggings, but I never wore them.

14. Be prepared for duvets everywhere. I’m not a duvet person. They make me too warm, so I’m continually having to stick my feet out or fold back the duvet to cool off. I know there are different weights of duvets, but every single place we stayed had fairly heavy duvets. So if you’re a warm person, you might want to pack very light pajamas or sleep in the buff. I took a long tee-shirt as my sleepwear. I lost a lot of sleep being awakened in a heat, and no, I don’t think they were hot flashes. None of the hotels had blankets in the closet, or I’d have tossed that duvet off and used one. Not a big deal, but it did bother me some. When possible, I opened windows to keep the room really cold at night. That helped. In some places my hotel room overlooked a busy square or a trattoria or bistro, and opening the window wasn’t feasible or I’d have been awake all night, but in most places I could. Or I adjusted the heat to very low, if I could, and that also helped.

15. Use small bags or Ziplocs for different toiletry types. I’ve decided that small little bags or Ziploc bags work best for the different kinds of toiletries needed. I have a great little cushy cinch-up thing for my make-up. But everything else needs to be divided up into bags or Ziplocs by use: shower (shampoo, gel, hairspray, body lotion), night-time (prescriptions, eye makeup remover, lip protector and my nasal spray) and morning (prescriptions, lotion, sunscreen). I have amongst my travel things 2 large box-shaped padded things for toiletries, but they’re bulky. I found the smaller things worked better. I have oodles of little zipped bag things I’ve gotten from cosmetic give-aways – they work well, or just the quart-sized heavier-duty Ziploc bags make for easy squishing here and there to fit in the suitcase. This is especially true if you’re trying to squeeze everything into a 21-inch bag. If you’re using Ziploc bags, put a yellow piece of paper in the morning one, a blue one in the shower bag, and a black one for night-time. Very easy to see which one is which. Since we 4 women were traveling together and shared one bathroom in the apartment in Lyon, France, we all had to keep our toiletries neat and tidy. We just picked up our baggies or whatever(s) and took them back to our bedrooms so the bathroom counter space (minimal) wasn’t clogged up with our stuff.

16. Take snacks and a water bottle every day. Not that you have to bring snacks from home necessarily (although I wished I’d had a few protein bars along on this trip) . . . but stop at a grocery store and find some kinds of snacks that will work for you and your family. Have one in your “day pack” or purse for those times when there just aren’t any restaurants nearby and you’re famished. Also, take along a small water bottle. Sometimes hotels offer a free bottle – take it and refill it each day (I know, they say that’s not a good thing, but hey, this is just one trip) so you have it with you, or in the car. If you have children, definitely have water and snacks available. I had a few Trader Joe’s dark chocolate bars in my suitcase, and I shared them with everyone now and then. One little square helped me get through to a later meal. Nuts would have worked also.

17. Figure out what kind of international cell phone plan you want to use. Now, I’m no expert, but after being with Tom & Joan for 8 days with cell_phone_wifiTom having a portable hotspot in his pocket, all of us got spoiled really fast with having internet most of the time. When Tom and granddaughter Lauren flew home, Joan and I were sad! The hotspot Tom had, only worked in Italy and he rented it for a short time span anyway. Next time I travel, I’ll be getting myself a portable hotspot. Not that it will work for my next trip (Botswana and Dubai next fall) but it will work in most places for most trips except remote areas in Africa (a guess). I purchased a small, special plan with my wireless carrier, but as good as I am with techie stuff, I had no idea exactly what I was getting (and I don’t have my bill yet to know what I did use) I wasn’t sure it was the wisest. Every hotel offered free wi-fi. Here’s one photo I took in the town of Matera, in Tom & Joan’s cave hotel room (the door is open because the light through the door was all we had, other than soft indirect lighting). We’d just checked in and all of us were on our phones checking for texts and email. This happened every single day of the trip! I don’t think I’ve mentioned yet that in France, wi-fi is pronounced wee-fee. You can purchase/rent short-term phones in Europe, but they’re a new number and I didn’t expect to get any phone calls. Although I did get one from my opthalmologist’s office wanting to ask me a question or two – this at 3 am Europe time. I didn’t think to turn my phone completely off at night. There are plenty of websites that will give you advice about how to handle this – there are so many options. Too many. Some cell phones don’t work in Europe, either, so that’s another factor.

All of these words of (my) wisdom are just my two cents worth. Merely FYI.

Posted in Travel, on April 24th, 2015.

Trulli_house_masseria_cervarolo

Puglia (or Apulia in Italian) isn’t on everyone’s radar. It should be. Not only is it beautiful, but Puglia contains these unique old houses that have been turned into country inns. Mostly the Trulli houses exist in and around Ostuni and Alberobello. If you search on a map of Italy, you’ll find them way down south, the boot of Italy, on the Adriatic side, just south and inland from Bari (a city on the Adriatic). If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to stay at one of the Trulli inns.

The history of Trulli houses is very interesting – it’s a legend, and there doesn’t seem to be any proof of this. Trullo (singular) were peasant huts, and usually no more than two were built next to one another – one for people, one for livestock. Back in the very olden days, the tax collector visited homes annually to collect taxes. You paid based on your home, its size, etc. So the good folks of Puglia decided that they’d just dismantle their homes (I suspect the original Trulli homes were stacked tufa or limestone as you see above, clear down to the ground). There was no mortar (now they use rocks and mortar for the bottom portions). The house could be dismantled in a matter of a few hours, the tax collector came to visit saw no house, so they paid no taxes at all – the house was just a pile of rocks. Then the next day they’d rebuild it for another year. If you click on the Trullo link above, you can read a whole lot more about the origin, history and construction of them.

Most trullo were single huts, with only a few joined, and most were abandoned when farms failed. In recent years enterprising people have bought the land and the run-down trulli houses, did tons of work on them, re-worked them, adjoined them, built other buildings near them, and voila, you have a country inn. At the Masseria Cervarolo, where we stayed (above) the couple/family who bought it put in years of renovation and they say that it doesn’t make a very large income for them, but it’s enough. The day we arrived photographers and models were doing a photo shoot at the Masseria in a variety of casual to elegant clothing. masseria_cervarolo_wide

There above is a bigger photo of the inn. (The owners sent me their photo – isn’t it lovely?) The entrance gate is off to the left. Some rooms are in the square building, and then a few lucky people/families can stay in the trulli houses. The restaurant is a separate building off to the left, and a generous parking lot further down the gentle slope.

trulli_house_bedroom

Here’s a photo of my room. The living room actually had 2 day beds for additional sleeping. There was a TV, although I don’t think they received any English stations. Off to the far left through that alcove was the bathroom. Photo down below. It was a room addition and didn’t have the trulli cone roof. The bathroom was charming. And the lighting throughout was lovely – soft light, warm. Next to the bed there’s a little niche (see it?) and there was a tiny little indirect light inside which was the last light I turned off when I went to sleep at night. Each of the two trulli houses had a door and the glass in them provided the only exterior light. So they manage to include some nice lights here and there to provide ample light.

Each day we were there (we stayed 3 nights) we took a day trip somewhere. There are so many little villages in the area, many of them containing trulli houses. The most memorable was Alberobello. I have a bunch of photos from there. I think I should write up a separate post about that one.

Of the 3 nights we were there, we had dinner at the Masseria two of them. It was an exquisite meal both times, about 5 courses, for 30 euro per person. A bargain. So that I don’t make this post too awfully long, I’ll write up a separate post with pictures of the meals we had at the Masseria. The Masseria has a good reputation for their food, and they hold weddings and events on the grounds. In the summer, I’ll bet it’s beautiful. It was lovely when we were there, although cold. Trulli_house_bathroom_sink

I thought the soapstone sink was just adorable. But then, I love these kinds of hand-made things; it’s so European. The shower was all rock, with a slate floor. It also had a heated towel warmer. I used that to dry my laundry. So helpful!

It takes a bit of getting used to, to use the showers in Europe. Not only the different ways of just turning on the water, but Europeans are much more efficient about using water. We think nothing of using gallons of water. In Europe, you get a bit more than a trickle, maybe a triple trickle and that’s your shower strength. I have short hair so it doesn’t take much, but people with long hair – well, it takes awhile to rinse shampoo out when you have a trickle of water. But you get used to it. It’s just the way it is!

The photo below is the main (public) living room at the Masseria. We enjoyed a glass of champagne with our group before we went to dinner in the restaurant. I’ll have to do a write-up about the ceramics we saw in Puglia. I had no idea it is such a mecca for ceramics. One of the days we visited a ceramics factory. More on that later.

masseria_cervarolo_livingroom

Posted in Travel, on April 22nd, 2015.

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There’s an old movie, a love story, called Return to Me (Minnie Driver and David Duchovny) – my DH Dave and I watched it together many times – and one scene takes place on a rooftop terrace in Rome. This photo reminds me of that movie. I don’t think the movie scene was filmed here, but it was very similar. While I was there, I enjoyed the rooftop terrace and took pictures from several angles. They served cocktails (I had prosecco) and on some occasions (weather permitting) they serve dinner up there. It was cold. Probably about 45°. I was bundled up and sat in the lee of a wall to stay out of the wind. But it was beautiful, no?

That view above includes Piazza Navona – it’s buried down in front of or behind that one long peach-colored building you see, and the church steeple. I think. I was just a short block off the Piazza, which was right where I wanted to be. The Piazza Navona is not open to cars – it’s strictly a walking area, and it’s full, IMG_0514day and night, of tourists, business people going from one place to another, hand-holding couples seeing it for the first time, artists with their oh-so-romantic street scenes slap-dashed onto canvases, magicians, and a large number of hawkers trying to sell purses, selfie-sticks (very annoying), scarves, or waiters trying to lure everyone into their restaurants. I walked it early in the morning (when fewer people were there, nice) mid-day, noontime, afternoon, evening and late evening. I walked it numerous times. I had dinner at the touristy restaurants (vegetable soup because my tummy was rebelling the rich pasta I fed it at noon) and watched people. The waiters were kind to me. They never asked – why are you alone? They never asked – are you waiting for a friend? Thank goodness, or I might have dissolved in tears.

There are just about zero hotels around the Piazza, and when I found the Hotel Raphael, I knew that’s where I needed to stay. It was pricey, although I stayed in the very low-end rooms. It had a nice lobby, a delightful breakfast room. It did have a restaurant, but I didn’t eat there – it was beyond pricey and vegetarian. Not that I’m opposed to vegetarian, but the menu looked very rich with creamy sauces. My tummy said “no.” fiume_trevere

My last afternoon there I walked some blocks toward the river and it was so lovely. I crossed the broad bridge, walked down-river about a mile, then back up the other side. My foot/feet did fine. The weather was perfect. Cold, but clear and sunny. Conversations abounded around me, wherever I walked – German, Brit English, French, Arabic, some Slavic languages, some African ones, and occasionally American English. Because it was the week before Easter, there were hundreds (thousands?) of college-aged young people on spring break, I think. artichoke_deep_friedThere were school children on some kind of disciplined outing. There were old people, young people, of every color of the rainbow. Not so many single people. I was an oddity, I think.

One of the days, my friends Tom, Joan and their granddaughter Lauren came to my hotel and we had lunch together. We went to an osteria (that’s a more upscale restaurant than a trattoria) not very far away, and indeed, we had a delicious lunch. The standout there were the deep-fried artichokes. They were on menus nearly everywhere. Remember, in other parts of the world, they cook by the season (only), and artichokes are just now in-season, so they were on the blackboards in nearly every restaurant. In Italian it’s called carciofi, pronounced  car-chioff-ee. We all shared that one pictured at right, and we ate every smidgen, including the stem.

piazza_navona_dusk

There’s the Piazza Navona at dusk. All the waiters at all the restaurants (see the awnings – those are all restaurants), like the one fellow on the right, facing right, hang around out on the street (no cars, remember) waiting to lure people in. They’re a bit annoying after awhile, so I pasta_straw_hay_romewalked closer to the center to avoid them. My first night in Rome I traipsed around trying to decide where to have dinner and finally settled on a non-descript place off the Piazza. I ordered fried zucchini blossoms stuffed with ricotta (delicious) and because a heavy meat dish didn’t appeal to me, I ordered pasta. I think it’s called straw and hay – regular and spinach pasta with sausage, mushrooms and peas. And a lot of olive oil. It was very rich; hence I didn’t eat but about half of it. Most restaurants don’t serve pizza except at night. For whatever reason, pizza didn’t sound good to me either. I’d justravioli_ricotta_tomatoes come off of the 12 hour flight from Los Angeles and wasn’t all that hungry.

You can tell by how shiny the pasta is – there’s a lot of oil in it. It was good, but not exceptional. At right is another photo of ravioli I ordered another day. It was stuffed with ricotta, and was so rich. I wasn’t sure what the swirl was on top – probably sour cream. Yet that seemed odd to me – I don’t think Italians use sour cream very much. It was smooth and soft and had none of the slightly acidic edge sour cream has. I don’t know – I didn’t eat much of it in any case. The ravioli were really wonderful – the pasta was super-tender and the filling very tasty. The strips on top are fresh tomatoes. I was there in Rome for 4 nights. Since I’d seen all the major sites before (the Vatican, Spanish Steps, Trevi Fountain, walked the Forum) I stayed fairly close to the Piazza Navona. And that was fine with me. I tested my foot – I sure didn’t want to injure my foot and have difficulty the rest of the trip. That first night I went walking after dinner and got totally lost. I am certain I walked at least 4 miles before I finally found my way back to the Piazza Navona. People kept giving me wrong directions and my map, although a good one, didn’t show all the streets, so I made several wrong turns. I should have turned on my cell phone’s navigation – I’d have figured it out – but I didn’t even think of it. I’d turned off all of my apps (because they use cellular data and because they draw power even when you think they’re not).

Posted in Travel, on April 18th, 2015.

Truli_house_Alberobello1


In coming days I’ll be telling you all about Trulli houses in my first post from the Italy part of my trip to Europe. I stayed in a Trulli house and it was really special.

I’ve just returned (yesterday) from a 3+ week trip to Europe (Italy, Switzerland and France). As I write this it’s 5:30 in the morning, and I’ve been up for 3 hours. I could not keep my eyes open after 7:30 last night. I fell into bed and slept like the dead for 7 hours. BUT, that meant I woke up early. Laundry is going, music is playing, I’ve had 2 cappuccinos already this morning. I’ve downloaded all of the images from my camera (I didn’t take my fancy Canon, it’s just too big to lug around) but the photos I have from my little Canon need organizing and naming. And I took lots of pictures on my iPhone too, so they need to be off-loaded and categorized too.

Just a synopsis, I flew alone to Rome. Stayed 4 nights there by myself, and although those 4 days were just one little section, except for meeting friends for lunch one day, I was really alone there. Now I know – note to self – do not go to a big city by yourself – and expect to be happy. I wasn’t. Maybe it’s because Rome is such a romantic place? Or because the last time I was there I was with my DH? Or what? I don’t know. I stayed in a wonderful hotel about 1/2 block from the Piazza Navona, and I tromped all over everywhere (including getting lost my first night there). I didn’t like eating dinner alone – I did, of course, and everyone was very kind to me – but I felt odd. What can I tell you? I just felt odd being alone. I didn’t like walking around in the evening alone (not because of safety – I felt fine in that regard). I missed my darling Dave. As hard as I tried to talk myself out of it (and I did have several conversations with myself about my grief journey and that it’s been a year, gotta get out of it – nope, my emotional, vulnerable part of my head was having none of it!).

After the 4 days I joined up with dear friends Tom & Joan and their granddaughter Lauren (14) and we traveled together for a week by car and had a fantastic time. We went to Puglia and Basilicata (way south, in the boot/heel). As soon as I was with friends, my attitude changed from dark to light, from not coping well (sadness) to delight in everything. Although I treasure some alone time every day, I’m a clan person, I suppose. I want to be around people I know – family, friends.

After a week in Italy, Tom and their granddaughter flew home to California, and Joan and I flew to Zurich. We booked our flights separately, so we flew at different times. I was the last one to arrive. But at our designated place – near the Europcar rental car desk in the Zurich airport, Joan and I met up with 2 other friends, my best friend Cherrie and another long-time friend Darlene, and we began a 2 week trip together.

I planned the 6-day Switzerland part (and I did all the driving except for about 30 minutes when I wasn’t feeling very well) – we went to Lucerne, Brienz, Lauterbrunnen (where I took my 3rd trip up the Jungfraujoch), Gruyere and Talloires (actually that’s in France, near Geneva). Then we spent 3 days and nights in Lyon, France, in a rented apartment with 4 bedrooms and a washer and dryer (oh yippee, were we ever happy to see that piece of equipment in the kitchen!). Then we took the TGV (pronounced tay-jay-vay in French) the high-speed train to Paris and spent 3 more nights (had a tour of the Opera House and a trip to Giverny). Flying home, we flew 3 different airlines, but we left at about the same time. Darlene’s husband picked us up (she and I) and I got home about 3:30 pm. In time to drive to the post office to get all the accumulated mail (oh my, haven’t even started going through the 2 big bins yet) and make a stop at Trader Joe’s. Joan flew Turkish Air, and in order to get the best prices it meant she had to fly to Istanbul both going and returning. So she’s not returning until today. She spent the night at an Istanbul airport hotel. She and Tom have been to Istanbul before and she was fine with it.

SO, all that said, I have some great stories to tell you. I have some great photos to share. I have some wonderful food stories to talk about, and you’ll hear it all in time. You may get very tired of hearing about my trip. I’ll be cooking too – my first thing I’m going to make is grilled/roasted vegetables – but in the Italian style, thinly sliced and soaking in a light bit of good olive oil. I couldn’t get enough of those when we were in Puglia.

It’ll take me a few days to get the photos organized, then I’ll start posting a travelogue. Meanwhile, I relished in taking a shower in my own bathroom with good water pressure, and most of all sleeping in my own bed with my own pillow! I’m very glad to be home, but we had a great trip!

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