Torrione

Today I stopped by my mother-in-law’s place to drop off a few things and pick up some olive oil she had in the basement.
The normalcy of that statement comforts me but although life goes on that sentence is far from normal.
Linda’s building, the one she and her husband built in the fifties with 7 other families and where Silvia was born in their fourth floor apartment, appears from the outside to be in good shape. There are just two nasty cracks on the north wall, and the garden has overgrown. But like much of the Torrione neighborhood, it is still off limits. The uneven quality of the cement in the late fifties means that the stability of the building is compromised. But the garage is still accessible to drop of the girls’ old books and toys and pick up a big bottle of great local olive oil. Two of the five liter bottles survived the quakes but will not make it past our summer salads.
Torrione was one of the first big post-war neighborhoods built after the second world war. Just below the Spanish castle, across from the rugby stadium.
The name “torrione” comes from the rough brick tower at the main intersection just two buildings down from Linda’s building. It wasn’t actually a tower, just the last leg standing from the aqueduct that brought water from Gran Sasso to the nearby Roman city of Amiternum. It withstood 2000 years, it’s half as tall now, surrounded by ancient red bricks.
It was once one of the three gateways to the old city and the only main road that crosses the city still passes through. Many of the shops have reopened, but very few people have come back to live - or park there before going to work downtown (with now downtown, why bother?).
The sensation is a mix of optimism (two bars, two great bread stores, and other activities have reopened. Others have installed kiosks in the neighborhood and moved in. My doctor’s office is in a small building and he’s been back for two months. But virtually no one lives there anymore. It’s as though an ember is still burning under the ashes, but the fire still need fresh wood to burn again. How much fire will there be before winter?

Rosemary’s nose

Rosemary’s nose

The quick basics of Italian cooking: keep it simple and care intensely about the ingredients. Try to get them fresh and in season unless the preservation method makes them something better (sun dried tomatoes, for example, or spicy artichoke hearts or salt cod, the list a mouth watering few). I learned my first year here as a college exchange student in Bologna that one of the easiest ways to impress dinner guests is is baked potatoes and rosemary.
But you need fresh rosemary. Rosemary is a brush-like wooden herb that grows well even in cold corners of walls and outside windowsill pots. It’s a compulsory ingredient in Easter roast lamb and other early Spring dishes all over Italy, but especially in the mountains and the hills. Here around L’Aquila many people have a bush growing in a corner of their yard.
Cut the potatoes thin - whatever potatoes you like. I like them razor thin but have been known to cut them into thicker disks with the skins still on. Spread it out over oven paper or a pan slightly greased with olive oil. Sprinkle more olive oil, salt and a couple handfuls of fresh rosemary twigs. Bake away until they look as crispy as you like them. Open the oven a crack occasionally to free up the aroma of baked rosemary to fill the kitchen and tease the the dinner guests who are keeping you company. Bring them to the table warm, making sure that the plate gets passed around under everyone’s nose.
And if it smells good, it tastes good.

expatinitalia.blogspot.com
carbonara.wordpress.com