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Laura's Blog
Talking Dirty in Foreign Languages

Vaga-Blog - Volume I
My Vagabond Summer Begins
Skinny Jeans and Cigarettes
Don't Teach Your Kids To Drive Like This
What's Italian For 'That's a Lovely Speedo'
"For You, I Have Special Price"
Sam Comes To Italy To Go To Ferragamo. Ferragamo Is Closed.
The Grocery Store Is Out Of Pasta
This Isn't Pork!
Four Courses And A Wedding
Look At What My Dog Found In The Grass
Who Needs Barilla When You Have Donatella?
That's Why Men Like Grapes

Vaga-Blog - Volume II
How Many Tunnels Does It Take To Get To France
Boars And Bees And Gypsies, Oh My!
Mas de Chain Saw Massacre
My Lawyer's Not Afraid Of Your Lawyer
No, We Don't Have Reservations. Is That A Problem?
What's So Funny About My French?
YOU Belong To The Vegas Party Club?
Mom Discovers Her Inner Lady Marmalade
You Prayed For What?

The Potato Babe
Roussillon: Steve's $7,000 Bill
Oppede: Which Way To Apt
Apt: No Tablecloth For You!
Avignon: Raise Your Hand If You've Seen Elizabeth Taylor Naked
Bonnieux: Gratin of Edouard Loubet's Grandmother
Aix-en-Provence: Is That A Bunny In Your Fanny Pack?
Dordogne: The Search For Walnut Oil
Issigeac: It Depends On How Much Pie We Drink
Domme: Steve And Laura's Favorite Restaurant In The World
Beynac: Out Of Breath? Me?
Biron: Happy Bastille Day
Barcelona: On The Road Again

Guest Vaga-Bloggers
Potato Boy
 

Vaga-Blog - Volume I - San Gimignano (June 3)

THE GROCERY STORE IS OUT OF PASTA.

Today was my first experience with an Italian grocery store. In my idealized head, I picture a charming market where men argue over the price of tomatoes and local farmers vend their harvests with pride. Remember what I said about how these maniacs drive? Well put them in a grocery store with a sharp metal cart and no regard for personal space and give them only a few manic hours on a Sunday to stock their pantries before the store closes at 1 p.m. (They dim the light a few minutes in advance to let you know they’re closing – like Americans do to warn you that intermission is almost over.)

The store, PAM, is what I picture Wal-Mart to be, with the same amount of merchandise and the same number of shoppers, except crammed into about 2000 square feet. There’s a line to get into the parking lot. There’s one shopping cart left, and it’s so crowded that you can hear the cattle calls. People are jammed in without an inch to spare. It’s loud, it’s hectic and it makes me so uncomfortable my skin itches. We soon realize the checkout line is 40 minutes long, so I held our place in line while Laura and Debbie (still no suitcase) brought things to me. This gives me a chance to watch the circus from the front row. By the time we finished, most of the shelves were empty. The meat counter was empty. The dairy shelf was bare. There were no lemons, no apples and no bread. The Barilla section was empty. Yes, the grocery store in Italy is out of pasta. And at 1 pm on Sunday, when Americans are doing their shopping for the week, they closed.

All I can really say is that I will never in my life see anything like this circus.

During our shopping adventure, Steve and Giulio took the group to San Gimignano for a tour of a saffron farm and a saffron lunch. Giulio drives, because as he proudly declares, he has nine “sits” in his car.

For dinner, we collaborated on bruschetta with fresh mozzarella, truffle pasta and steaks with roasted eggplant and asparagus. Dessert was an upside down apple tart that Laura made from scratch, and it was delicious despite the fact that we bought cornmeal instead of unbleached flower. It’s all about improvising!

Minutes spent in line to check out at PAM: 46
Items not refrigerated in Italy that I think should be: 3 (butter, eggs, milk)
Cost of a 12-oz plastic Cola Lite: 3€




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