MUSHROOM SEASON AT THE MERCATO ORIENTALE

   - Signora, look at these beauties! You want mushrooms? These are the best! And for you, signora, special price!
   I had just walked into a market early on Friday morning, escaping rain, when the man standing in front of boxes and boxes of  chantarelles spotted me. He was already putting them in a brown paperbag and I heard myself saying "yes, please". I have no will power when it comes to mushrooms... I looked around: Stall after stall full of fresh mushrooms of all kinds. I had come to the right place. 
       You want to know what is in season? Step inside the Mercato Orientale.

  Every big city in Europe has at least one, old, indoor market hall with lots of character and in Genoa  it is the Mercato Orientale. Very conveniently located on Via XX Settembre, one of the main shopping streets, it is actually easy to miss as the sign for the entrance is not that visible.

  Everything sold here on the bottom floor is attractively displayed. Mountains of apples, oranges, nectarines, bunches of carrots, spinach, cucumbers, tomatoes... you name it.The air smells of spices and herbs. Fresh fish lies on beds of ice. Massive blocks of Parmesan cheese, aged for months and months, is sold here.  You can also find Genovese specialities such as offal prepared according to old recipes.

 

   It may be a bit dissapointing to hear that the Mercato Orientale has nothing to do with Asia or some other exotic faraway eastern spot. The name means Eastern market, but it merely indicates that it was once situated in the east side of the city, said the guide book I have been reading recently.

There are several entrances and exits to the Mercato - it is worth taking any of them when going out of the market. I ended up in a small alleyway, just behind Via XX Settembre, buzzing with people sitting in small cafees, chatting or stopping to buy a newspaper from a kiosk in the street. This is what I like about Genoa - it is not an "open city", it has to be discovered...

 

 



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CONVERSATIONS IN ITALIAN

  I admire the Italians. They really protect their own culture. They have collectively come to the conclusion that yes, English language has its uses, but there is no need to contaminate the nation as a whole with foreign influences. It is a big mistake in Italy to walk into an office/shop/hotel and expect to be understood in English. I know that as a foreigner, I don't have a choice: I have to learn Italian as soon as possible because, frankly, I feel like being closed in an airtight capsul in a space station, trying to communicate with life outside.
  On the other hand, it is quite comforting that Italians I have met so far, really try to understand what I am trying to say. They are very willing and happy to make a good guess too. Imagine, trying to carefully construct a sentence, waiting for a very simple "yes" or "no" answer. Instead, you are welcomed with a shower of explanations in Italian. All you can do, is to smile helplessly.
   It is amazing too, how the language courses and CDs spend awful long time in explaining how to behave in restaurants, such as to order food & drink (when the waiters can understand from the slightest hint what you may want and never tell you about the daily specials, which are truly delicious).  These courses give you a totally false confidence, believe me. The vocabulary needed in tricky, everyday situations is totally forgotten.

    I had one such situation the other day. An electrician came to put up some lamps  - yes, it is best to have an electrician to do this if you don't want to be electrocuted on the spot - and check which sockets are functioning and which ones are not. An Italian friend, who happened to be on holiday in Genoa, arranged the appointmen with the electrician. He came on time and after couple of hours everything was done. Very happy customer, thank you.

    However, quite soon after he had said arrivederci, I noticed that he had left his machine for checking the electrical current behind. Now, this is not a standard thing. I don't even know what is that thing called in English. But I knew that I will have to make a Telephone Call to tell him about this and ask when will he be able to come and pick it up. Out came the little pocket dictionary. After checking some words from the dictionary, I had enough courage to make the call.
I will reconstruct this here in English for the benefit of readers, but this is how it went in Italian - at least how I thought it went:

Me: Aah, Good Evening, this is Mrs X.

Mr Electrician: Good evening.

Me: You. Forgetting. Machine. At my house.

Mr Electrician: You want my address?

Me: No, no, thank you. A problem. Yellow machine. At my house.

Mr Electrician: What? I don't understand.

Me: Yellow. Machine. Electric current. At my house.

Mr Electrician: (Silence for a while). AAAAAH, I understand. You have the machine to measure electrical current and I left it there?

Me: Yes (with a huge relief).

And then we agreed that he will come and collect it the next morning, which he did.
Phewww. Cannot wait for the next problem to be solved in Italian.
 

 

 

 

 

   

SHOPPING FOR THE DAILY GROCERIES

Whenever we have been travelling to a new country, one visit is always included in the itinerary: a   trip to the  local supermarket. Nothing reveals more about the daily life than what is stocked on  the shelves. This is true of Italy, too. Naturally, I can only talk about Genoa, where we have lived no longer than for a few weeks. In other words, what I am saying below is not based on a carefully conducted survey of consumer behaviour including interviews with statistically relevant groups of Italians. It is totally based on experiences of one keen consumer and master shopper: me.    
   Prices aside - something being "cheap" or "expensive" depends so much on what you are comparing it with - it is also interesting to note where people shop and what is included in their shopping baskets.  If you think that approximately 1000 euro a month is a fairly normal salary here  (after taxes), it is no wonder that the average consumer has to be careful where and what they shop. My initial impression is that the price of food is definitely lower in Italy compared to the UK and Finland. More about prices later, when I get a chance to investigate this properly.
   For foreigners like us, it is a blessing that there is a big supermarket chain, COOP, quite close to us. This is the equivalent of Tesco in the UK or Kesko Supermarkets in Finland. Your usual "go once a week-usually-on-a-Saturday-and-stock up-on-everything-possible" kind of shop.  But what they stock is definitely very, very Italian and reflects the nation's diet in general.

   Supermarkets have a critical audience to please since Italians expect food to be absolutely fresh and a very high quality.  Take olive oil, for example. There is not just one type of extra virgin olive oil from a nameless factory. No, no. Olive oil is given almost the same respect as fine wine: they come from all regions with pretty labels and a description of the flavor. In the supermarket you can see several shelves of olive oils. Italians love good quality olive oil and they are ready to go to some lengths to get what they want. This includes growing your own olive trees and pressing oil from them - one olive tree produces approx. 2 litres of oil. However, this is expensive and time consuming. Alternatively, if you live in a city, you may get a good supply of olive oil from a relative, who knows somebody making exceptionally good olive oil somewhere in a rural area with plenty of olive trees and you can buy litres and litres of the stuff in one go, which will last for a long time.  In which case, you don't need it from a supermarket.
    The same goes with pasta. The variety on offer is staggering. There really is a difference between good pasta and an average product. How do you recognise the best quality, is still a bit of a mystery to me. But the Italians will not make a mistake in these matters. Then there is cheese and wine - the list goes on and on. A decent bottle of red/white wine is approximately 5 to 8 euro. Lesser quality wine is also sold in the same way as milk, in cartons.

    But the supermarkets have not yet killed all the corner shops here.  On the contrary, customers are very loyal to their local butcher, fishmonger, bakery, cheese shop, pastry shop or fruit & veg stall.  It is common to shop for fresh ingredients daily and walking to your local shop quickly becomes a daily ritual. This often gives a chance to catch up with friends too, who are doing the same thing. Afterwards, it may be nice to pop into a cafe for an espresso and a cornetto (a type of croissant). On top of the local food shops, there are also street markets, especially for fruit and veg. Personal service, a chance to sample the produce or buying a small quantity are some of the plusses.
  The only slightly annoying thing is that usually all the small shops have a day during the week when they are closed. This can be any day of the week. Also, closing a shop for the afternoon, especially during the holiday season (August/September), is taken for granted.

     The small, local shops have their own rules. Depending on the type of shop,  it is not always acceptable to touch any products on display yourself. You have to ask and wait to be served by the shop assistant. Another interesting difference is that, for example, bread is sold priced per kilo. In a bakery, you have to tell the shop assistant how much bread you need - let's say - half a loaf. In our local bakery, this would be  500 gr and the price  2 euro 25 cents.  This bread is best eaten on the same day, as it will be hard as stone the next morning. However, left over bread is often used in salads and soups.
  The supermarket bread is cheaper and sliced, but suspiciously soft even after several days, which makes you wonder how much preservatives have been put into it. I also collapsed with laughter, when I noticed a small sign in the plastic cover of the supermarket bread: "100g of bread equals 30 minutes of exercise". Oh dear.
  It is refreshing to see that the supermarkets have not totally bulldozed small shops aside here.  This is totally thanks to consumers who choose to shop differently and by doing so, they believe that they are getting a much better deal. So do I.
 
  
  

 

 

  

 

ON THE BEACH IN SEPTEMBER

We are having a second summer here. It has been very hot, sunny and humid since last week, at least +25 C and above every day. The apartment quickly becomes like a sauna, unless the air conditioning units are on all the time, in which case the place is like a giant freezer. On days like this there is only one place to be: the beach. The breeze from the sea makes life a bit more bearable and gives an instant relief from heat of the day.

  In Nervi you can either find your own spot on the rocks near the promenade Anita Garibaldi or use one of the many beach locations around Nervi, Quinto and Quarto. Quite a few of them have umbrellas, sunchairs and a cafe/bar attached. In some places along the promenade, there are big signs declaring that the water is polluted and swimming therefore forbidden, but few people treat that as a serious health warning. Towels are spread on the beach, sun tan lotions applied and the leasurely business of getting yourself nicely tanned can start. Alternatively, there are couple of public swimming pools in the area. One of them is a really beautiful natural rock pool with stunning sea views. I have admired it from the safety of the promenade, but come next summer and I will be 10 kg lighter in a killer swimming costume and designer sun glasses... Right now there is still some work to do before I dare to enter the world of very beatiful people.

  During the weekend all possible spots in the middle of the rocks and natural beaches are occupied. But apart from people trying to get a nice tan, there are some who cannot sit still even on hot days like these. They are members of the local kayaking club. Increadibly fit looking men with bronzed bodies and tiny swimming trunks are carrying the kayaks into the sea.  Boats are also popular, but mainly relatively small boats with engines rather than posh looking yachts. During summer months (July-August), it is even possible to take a two hour trip  (one way) to the National Park of Cinque Terre from Nervi, something we failed to notice until it was too late and the season was over. Never mind.

  I have no idea what autumn will be like here. Cannot be too bad, if summer lingers on like this. But for the time being - let's enjoy the sun!

 

 

 

 

 

WHEN WALKING IN THE OLD TOWN - LOOK UP!

We had a really good time yesterday, exploring the Centro Storico, the Old Town of Genoa. Walking is really the best way to see it and we started from Via Garibaldi, which is now for pedestrians only. It is said to be the oldest medieval historical centre in Europe: full of mysterious and spooky alleyways, numerous churches, grand palaces, museums and historical shops which still serve their customers as if nothing has changed in the last 100 years, not to mention bars, trattorias and restaurants full of people, enjoying a fun day out. It is also very easy to get lost. But does it really matter? There will soon be a piazza or other such landmark to guide you back to a familiar path.  

 

The Centro Historico is not for tourists only: a large number of people still live in the area in the old apartments.
Not sure how much creature comforts there are today.

Most of the Centro Historico is for pedestrians only.

It is normal all over Italy to dry your knickers outside for everyone to see,
but somehow it adds a special flavour to the Centro Storico. The whole area could be a backdrop to a Fellini film.

There is so much to see but not only on the street level. The number of decorations and small statues up on the walls is impressive too. I find it astonishing that someone has gone through the trouble of making a simple stone wall beautiful. There must have been a small army of  skillful artisans employed by noblemen willing to pay for it too. What made them do it?

 

 

 

 

An Italian friend, who grew up in Genoa, told us that the owners of private palaces along the streets of the Centro Storico were very rich people who did not want to show their wealth openly. That is why many of these palaces look very ordinary buildings with relatively discreet entrances, but inside the rooms are magnificently decorated with gold and silver, luxurious silk and velvet and specially made furniture.

 

Not your average butcher shop but specialities such as salami and parma ham made to perfection.

 

 

Piazza de Ferrari

 

There is always a queue outside this sandwich shop. The sandwiches will be
made for you on the spot  New York style. 
 

Centro Storico is full of churches and cathedrals. This is one of the most famous, Chiesa del Gesu in Piazza Matteotti.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A HITCHCOCK MOMENT

"We are being watched, " John said one morning when we were having coffee on the glass covered balcony area in our apartment. "The man next door is looking at us", he added. I did not want to turn around as it would have been a bit too obvious that we had noticed and carried on drinking coffee. We were clearly being observed from a distance, but not in a sinister way - more curiosity than anything else.

 

The balcony- or a khonde as I we would have called it in Malawi - is my favourite area in the whole apartment.  Effectively, it is an extra room where we can have breakfast, lunch and dinner, have drinks, read books - you get the picture. This space is very handy, especially since the lounge is still full of unfinished IKEA furniture with boxes everywhere. Naturally, we spend a lot of time here. However,  it is a bit like being in a fish bowl. Everyone can see you and likewise, you can discreetly absorb quite a few facts about your neighbours without being intrusive as such. I am now beginning to understand why everyone has heavy wooden shutters on every window. It is partly protection from the sun and rain, but also partly because nobody can see through when the shutters are closed. And they are closed most of the time.

 

We were sitting on the balcony one evening, having dinner, lights on as it was already dark.  There was a nice buzz in the air: lots of people walking in the street, stopping to have a chat with friends in the bar/cafe down below, in the street. The local train passed every 15 minutes or so on its way to the city or back from there, its compartments illuminated. Scooters speeding through the street, couple of dogs barking. I was looking at the opposite house, casually registering that I can actually see into someone else's apartment where they were making dinner. I looked around again and saw a couple in another balcony, chatting and playing cards. I noticed laundry hanging outside the windows and another neighbour tending to her plants. I noticed all these things just by sitting there and watching the world go by...

 

And then it hit me: I have seen this scene somewhere.

Yes, in Rear Window, a movie by Alfred Hitchcock. If you have not seen this classic film with James Steward and Grace Kelly, it is well worth watching. If you have seen it - you will understand.