On the other side of a whirlwind

     On this day last year, I stood with Matt on a terrace at the Waterside Sheraton in Norfolk watching fireworks explode over the Elizabeth River. It was a perfect conclusion to his graduation banquet and our time in Portsmouth. As I squeezed his hand and marveled at the brightly popping colors, I remember a feeling of tingling anticipation. The long days (and nights) of residency life were over, and we were getting ready to embark on an international adventure together with Christopher.
     Looking back, I can't believe how many unique and exciting experiences we packed into one year. Twelve months, eight countries, dozens of new friends, and countless new memories later, it sometimes seems like a dream. So many times, I would look around - at the Sicilian countryside, at some amazing baroque architecture - and think "I can't believe what an incredibly blessed life we are living." It has truly been a whirlwind.
      Today, I am feeling a different type of anticipation. In the morning, I will begin seven weeks of chemotherapy and radiation treatments to eliminate cancer from my neck. Six weeks ago, at a routine check-up, my primary care physician found a mass in my throat. After consulting specialists in Sicily and Naples, we returned to Portsmouth a month ago and received the diagnosis. In the ensuing weeks, I have had surgery to remove the mass as well as appointments with an assortment of specialists to prepare me for the upcoming treatment.
      As this process progressed, it became very clear that we would not be returning to Sicily.  I was heartbroken to leave our home there without a sense of closure. We did not have the opportunity to say goodbye to our friends or Christopher's beloved nanny, Rosa. I was looking forward to the year ahead serving as the president of Protestant Women of the Chapel (an organization that had blessed me greatly in our first year) and going on more adventures across our island home and the continent beyond. The whirlwind was over.
     The past several weeks have been overwhelming at times, but they have not been without blessings. In fact, there have been several times that I have still stopped and thought "I can't believe what a blessed life we are living." Our friends in Sicily have bridged the distance with their encouragement and assistance, truly proving that it is never goodbye in the Navy.  It is a great blessing that we returned to Portsmouth. I can't imagine going through any of this without the comfort of the familiar faces of our friends and family. Even though it wasn't the homecoming I had wanted, they welcomed us with open arms and have embraced us with love and support.
      My medical team and Matt's colleagues have gone above and beyond to make sure that we know they will help us in every way possible. I am very thankful that Matt can remain with us throughout my treatment and that he will be transferred back to the hospital here. I also feel blessed that I have access to wonderful medical care and treatments that will help heal my body.
      I haven't decided if I am going to blog about any of this experience in the next few months.  Although I greatly admire many of the people who share their stories, we've been feeling pretty close and private. My focus is on Matt and Christopher and getting better. If you would like to contact me, or comment on this post, please do so in a private message or email. I wanted to share this information with the people who read my blog, but I would prefer to keep the information off of Facebook and other social media.
     
     
      
     

The day we (almost) made marmalade

     Last week, one of my market purchases was two kilos of tarrochi, the famous Sicilian blood oranges. The tarrochi season is winding down here, and two of my friends thought it might be fun to make marmalade from the sweet, colorful oranges.
     So named for their ruby-streaked flesh, Sicilian blood oranges have protected geographical status in Europe. Much like certain wines, cheeses and other food products, there are strict regulations about the quality and marketing of the oranges. Another interesting piece of information about tarrochi is that they contain the highest concentration of Vitamin C of any orange variety in the world, thought to be because they grow in the fertile soil surrounding our resident volcano, Mt. Etna.
      With my market bag full of two kilos of tarrochi (plus one extra given to me by the vendor with a wink), I headed to my friend Anna's house to make marmalade. When I arrived, she and Allison were preparing the canning jars and debating which recipe we should use. We settled on one, and after donning our aprons, set to work slicing oranges, juicing and zesting lemon and measuring sugar.
      If you have every made any type of jam or preserves, you know it is a time consuming process. As we waited for the fruit to cook down, we kept peeking in the steaming pot. Did the color look right? Would the peel cook down? Was there too much peel? We were concerned about the color. It seemed very pale for the deep reddish-orange we envisioned in our jars. The sugar, which had to be rapidly and constantly stirred, remedied that problem and the batch turned a beautiful amber shade. The smell filling Anna's kitchen was amazing. Sweet, citrusy and fragrant. The peel was cooking down beautifully. We were almost done.
       Then, the unforeseeable happened. As we were continuing to rapidly stir and take the temperature to ensure the marmalade would set properly, we dropped the thermometer into the pot and it's glass case broke. For a few desperate minutes, we sifted and strained through the pot. Then common sense prevailed; there was no way we could be certain we had all of the glass even if we found a bigger piece. Our marmalade was ruined.
         After some moping, and a few furtive tastes that confirmed the warm, orangey deliciousness of our creation, came what I thought was the best part of the afternoon. As we poured the literal fruit of our labors into Anna's garbage, we mutually agreed that even though the marmalade was a bust, we had a pretty marvelous morning of working together and having fun.

 Faces of sadness - Allison (above) holds the broken thermometer and Anna (below) attempts to search for the broken glass. I was too bereft to be captured on film :).

To market, to market

 Sicilian blood oranges

   

     Monday morning usually means a trip to the Catania market. It is a great way to start the week, stocking up on needed produce and cheeses and taking part in the daily bustle of Italian life. I think I enjoy absorbing the atmosphere and its routines just as much as I like having farm fresh foods for our table. Unlike the orderly and immaculate markets I was used to in Salzburg and Nice, the Catania market is bursting with energy and activity: dogs sneak around the butcher stands hoping for some snacks, vendors shout out specials trying to entice the crowd to make a purchase, friends enthusiastically greet each other and stop to chat. It's messy and hectic, but an undeniably real experience of daily Italian life. 

     The entrance to the market is behind a fountain giving an open view of where the River Amenano runs under the city. Behind the fountain, you can descend into the fish market, named by many famous chefs as one of the best in the world, or proceed down several narrow streets of stalls selling meats, cheeses and produce. The meat and fish displays are definitely not for the squeamish. The smells are strong, the meat and seafood is displayed quite graphically and the butchers and fishmongers work right in front of the customers actively preparing their orders.  

     Though I occasionally buy meat (we are spoiled by a local butcher that delivers to our residence complex), my weekly shopping list typically includes fresh ricotta cheese, tomatoes, and whatever other seasonal fruits and vegetables look particularly appetizing that week. Since European measurement is metric, most items are sold by the kilo (roughly two pounds). I quickly learned the term mezzo kilo  (half kilo) since that tends to be just the right amount for our family. After completing my list and tucking all of my finds in my canvas market bag, I usually end my morning with cappuccino and a pastry at a nearby cafe.

         

Fountain at the opening of the Catania fish market
 

The market is a shopping and social center in Catanian life.

Crates of peppers, green onions and lemons in the back of a truck.

Artichokes and fennel - both in season and prominent in Sicilian cuisine.

Men crowded around a table of shrimp.

The market attracts all kinds of shoppers including men in suits, nuns and American housewives :).

Balls and blocks of cheese displayed at my favorite cheese stall.

Man selling onions and garlic gestures to a friend.

A colorful selection

Fish and shrimp on ice.

Cucina Siciliana

     On Tuesday, I had the special opportunity to learn how to prepare a traditional Sicilian Easter meal at a cooking class. I thought it would be exciting to use the recipes I learned for our family's Easter meal as a special treat for Matt and Christopher. In the span of three hours, we learned how to make eight typical Sicilian dishes using fresh, local ingredients and techniques and tools that are standard in a Sicilian kitchen. One of my favorite side stories that our instructor, Flavia, shared was how her family members argued over who would inherit the tool she used to rice the potatoes. I really liked the multipurpose knife we used for everything from cutting pastry to dicing pears, and I learned some tips for using a pastry tube for both side dishes and desserts. 

     At the end of class, we were able to sample all of the recipes that we prepared which was a nice way to celebrate our work. The menu included:

 Sausage-stuffed plums

Uova ripiene (Sicilian filled eggs)

Spinach and ricotta mini pies

Pasta in a box

Scallopine with limone

Duchesse potatoes

Chocolate eggs with caramelized pears and cream

Cassata mousse with Grand Marnier

Learning how use a pastry tube to make duchesse potatoes.
 

 

Our instructor, Flavia (right), works with her assistant to dip the filled eggs in bread crumbs.

Sausage-stuffed plums, spinach-ricotta pies, Sicilian filled eggs

Scallopini and duchesse potatoes

The Fantastic Fiat 500!

      When we woke up on Saturday, we could tell it was going to be a beautiful day. The sun was warm and shining, the breeze was cool and it was starting to feel like spring. It was a perfect day to spend outside, so Christopher and I decided to visit the auto show sponsored by the Navy Marine Corps Relief Society. The show featured rows and rows of colorful Fiat 500s - the tiny, but iconic car that is ubiquitous in Italy. We were there early enough to watch a stream of 500s cruise in, honking their horns and parking so as to best display their shiny paint and body work.
       Fiat 500s were manufactured in Italy from 1957-1975 to meet the need for an economic city-driving car in the post-war European market. They were immensely popular in Italy and across Europe during their production, and are now a prized collector's car for enthusiasts and restoration projects. Many of the Fiats exhibited at the show are owned by members of the Belpasso-Catania Fiat 500 Club and several were owned by service members from the Sigonella community.
    

How does your garden grow?

Sprouts!

    

      Last summer,  Christopher became fascinated with the bees traveling around the abundance of clover in his grandma's backyard. We talked about how they were collecting nectar to take back to their hive and make honey. Coincidentally when we took him to a children's nature program at the Canaan Valley Nature Center, the theme of the day was pollination and he learned more about bees and other pollinators and their role in the plant life cycle. 

     His interest in how things grow has been further peaked by the orange tree in our backyard and the fields of crops stretched in every direction of our Sicilian horizon. We've watched the fields plowed and prepared for planting, green sprouts raising from the soil and flourishing into leafy giants, and workers harvesting the crops to take to market. Every car ride has been a discussion on the progress of the agriculture around us. 

        When I was younger, I remember following my Grandpa out into his large garden and orchard (and treat of treats watching him tend to his beehive from a safe distance). He took time to show us the seeds and how tended with care they became plants and finally the food my grandmother prepared for our dinner. I loved to help in the garden, wearing playclothes and digging, planting and watering the crops. That's why when I saw this: Root Vue Farm, I thought Christopher might enjoy growing his own plants and it would let him have some hands on experience to go with his observations. 

          The farm was easy to assemble and has a viewing window in the front that can be revealed so that we can monitor the progress of the roots as well as the leaves growing through the top of the soil. After I the farm was set up, I let an eager Christopher take charge. We read the instructions together and then I read them again as he completed each step. Once our carrot, onion and radish seeds were planted, we labeled them with their Italian names on small stakes and put the garden in our kitchen window. 
     At first, Christopher wanted to check the viewing window every few minutes to see if there were roots. Eventually he caught on that the progress wouldn't be that quick, and now we check each morning and each night before we go upstairs for bed. On the fourth day, we were treated to tiny green radish sprouts. Now, all three types of vegetables are sprouting and it is Christopher's daily task to make sure the water reservoir does not get dry. 

     

Counting out the soil discs

  Measuring the water so the discs can soak and expand.

 

 Transferring the prepared soil to his viewing garden.
 

 Time for a little clean-up before the next step.

Planting radishes, carrots and onions in a neat row.

 Some books we have been reading about plants.

Seeing Sicily: Caltagirone

 The famous tiled stairs in Caltagirone - I'll save climbing them for another day :)

   A few Saturdays ago, my friends Allison and Anna picked me up for a fun morning of shopping in Caltagirone. World famous for its majolica and terra cotta pottery, Caltagirone actually means "hill of vases" in Arabic. The town center is filled with ceramic workshops and boutiques selling tableware as well as decorative items painted with bright, beautiful patterns. Anna and I were in luck because Caltagirone is one of Allison's favorite towns and she was very knowledgeable about which shops offered the finest quality for the best price. I found a gorgeous and unique serving set as well as a few gifts, and can't wait to return to with Matt to show him some of the intricate landscapes of Sicily and Mt. Etna painted on tiles in several shops. After filling our bags and lugging them back to Allison's prime parking spot (another advantage of having an in-the-know guide), we headed to one of Anna's island finds - an agriturismo in a cave near the mountain top town of Vizzini for a delicious and relaxing lunch.

Rosy di Natale of Le Ceramiche di Rosy. She is the ceramicist of the shop where I bought my first piece of Caltagirone pottery. She wanted a picture of the piece before it left the shop and I asked if I could snap one of her, too.
 

Upstairs workshop at Silva Ceramica. Most of the shop proprietors were eager to show us examples of the ceramics process or photo albums of their best work. At Silva, a lady showed us a photo album of her project tiling the Dolce and Gabbana showroom in Manhattan (Dolce is a native of Sicily).

 

At Silva Ceramica, they even let us pose for a photo opportunity in the workshop. Here, Allison paints under the watchful eye of one of their ceramicists.

 

My favorite experience of the day was sorting through the stacks of hand-painted tiles at Silva Ceramica. What started as lifting a piece here and there quickly turned into a team project of methodically looking through each stack of tiles to find treasures that coordinated with each other. "Artistes!" exclaimed the amused proprietor.

 

When it comes to driving in Sicily, there is NEVER` a dull moment. This is a view through the back window of a dried mudslide obstructing 2/3 of the road. Faced with any obstacle, our fearless driver Allison would proclaim "Don't worry. I've got this." Showing her true Sicilian driving skill, she also informed us midway through a series of downhill S-turns that the car was in neutral.

 

It really isn't a drive through the Sicilian countryside unless you encounter animals in the road. This fine billy had some impressive horns.

 

Our delicious and artistic semifreddo dessert at an agriturismo near Vizzini - the perfect way to celebrate a successful afternoon adventure!

'Tis the Season

 Gorgeous doorway garland

     Are you feeling the Christmas spirit? I've taken a break in blogging to enjoy some of the holiday activities here and also to concentrate on a major endeavor in baking. Last week, I baked over 14 dozen cookies - for my annual cookies and cocoa party, for neighbors, for chapel caroling, for Matt's work and for two guys in our house that just love gingerbread!

      I'll resume the final posts from our trip next week, but for now, I thought I might post some pictures of the beautiful Christmas decorations we found in Salzburg and Munich. It seemed that every nook and cranny held some holiday cheer. Enjoy!

 

 Pretzels!

 Wooden ornaments at the Salzburg Christkindlmarkt

 

 Nativity at Festung Hohensalzburg

 Tree and garlands in the stairwell of Stiegl-keller

 

 Chandelier garland at Schneider in Munich

 Froliche Weinachten from Schneider :)

 Handcarved wooden nativity at Munich Christkindlmarkt (would not fit budget or in suitcase)

 

 Gluhwein stand in Munich. The best way to keep warm while Christmas shopping!

 

Christopher with a festive roadster at the BMW Welt, Munich.

Salzburg: Festung Hohensalzburg

View of the fortress from Old Town

     A visit to Salzburg would not have been complete without a trip up the Festungberg to visit the Hohensalzburg Fortress. The fortress can be reached by a funicular railway or a long, steep staircase that leads up the mountain. We took the funicular, which has been operating for hundreds of years in various forms (horse to hi-tech), since the cobblestone was a little slippery from recent snowfall and I think we were all excited by the idea of just zipping up the mountainside and enjoying the view. And the views are amazing! On one side, you are able to overlook Salzburg from the domes and spires of the Old Town churches, across to Schloss Mirabell and the gardens and further to the train station. On the other side of the fortress, the outskirts of Salzburg stretch across a long flatland until they reach the magnificent mountains that border Austria and Germany. 

      After we took in these sweeping views, we headed inside for an audio-guided tour of the fortress interior. The fortress was built in 1077 as a stronghold for the archbishops of Salzburg. It was originally a small structure, but each archbishop added onto the fortress for the next several centuries. One of our favorite stories from the audio guide was about an archbishop whose uncle did not think he would amount to much when he was a child. The uncle threw a turnip at his head to "knock some sense into him" and once he became archbishop he adopted the turnip as his official symbol and incorporated it into his coat of arms. Throughout the rest of the tour, we hunted for the turnip symbol in doorways and on shields throughout the fortress.

A view of Old Town from the fortress walls

On the other side of the fortress, countryside gives way to the Alps. Coincidentally, I used to have views of this mountain from my bedroom window at the pension where I stayed during my semester abroad.

Within the fortress walls

Wood paneled interior room where the archibishops ruled over Salzburg.

 

Listening intently to his special children's audioguide.