Cooking In Italy!

I used to cook. A lot. I like having the control over what I’m eating and what I’m not eating. It keeps me healthy. And I used to think I was fairly good at it; I could grill, and bake, and follow recipes. And I was proud of myself when I would cook for other people; I wanted to share the fun I had in the kitchen with others.

No one ever complained, in fact, my food always seemed to be thoroughly enjoyed.

Well, moving to Italy gave me a new prospective on my cooking abilities.

I may be Italian in heritage, but I can’t cook - I can’t even boil pasta so it’s “al dente”, or make espresso without burning the coffee pot. 

Basically, I suck. 

Fail. Epic fail on my part. Beatrice will starve because of me.

Grreeat.

Francesca could see my frustration, and I knew Vincenzo was disappointed as well. An American-style breakfast, or homemade chili is all he wants, and so far, I don’t think he trusts me with a butter-knife.

Because of her understanding nature, and her desire to show her beautiful new home to her family, Francesca decided to throw a feast on Friday. 

A feast prepared by none other than me and her.

When she announced this at dinner, I thought Vincenzo would choke on his prosciutto. Francesca works late, and never has time to cook, and his live-in Au Pair chopped her finger off while cutting an olive (Brava on my part). 

Yea, right, a feast? 

He looked at me and said in his broken accent,

“You two,cooking? For fourteen people? Just let me be in charge of the wine. Once there’s wine, and lots of it. I will be ok. I’m always better with wine.”

Che Palle!! 

(What a pain in the ass!)

Well guess what? We did it! We prepared a 6-course meal, and it was delicious, and it was amazing. And Vincenzo, and the rest of the family ate every last morsel.

 Fresh produce right off the bushes, fresh fish right out of the sea.

 The first course. Salmon and veggie cakes.

 Francesca adding the finishing touches.

Vincenzo was speechless!