L'inizio delle sagre

Wednesday night was a night full of fun, laughter and frivolity. It was the night of my first sagra, the sagra of the arrosticini. Arrosticini, it turns out, are not in fact the little fried things I thought they were, but are actually (lamb) kebabs. However, whatever food this sagra was for, it did not matter to me. I was only in for the wine; that famous Montepulciano d’Abruzzo I have mentioned so often.

A 5 litre bottle of Montepulciano d'Abruzzo

Late on Wednesday night, we went along with two other families to a vineyard-come-grape-processing factory on the outskirts of Fossacesia. I had already eaten because I don’t particularly like lamb or fries. Nevertheless, as soon as Gino stopped the car I jumped outside to see what was going on, not really knowing what to expect. To one side there was a stage with live music, a dance floor separating the stage from the rows and rows of long tables for dining, and to the left near the factory were a whole lot of gazebos with people selling the food and drinks. You pay at the cashier’s gazebo in return for tickets and then take the tickets to the correct stand to receive your order.

Even though this was the 18^th Sagra of the Arrosticini, they were selling various foods such as Italian sausages in a bun, tomato salad, fries, gnocchetti con sugo e salscicca (a type of pasta with tomato and sausage), those lamb kebabs, some “bruschetta” which was like greasy, oily white toast, and fresh rockmelon. Or you could buy a set of things for much cheaper, which most people did. Then there were snacks: long bags of fresh unshelled peanuts, lupini and pistachios. And then there was the wine and other such drinks.

Ciro (Gino's youngest brother) passing a bag of peanuts to Gino

These are lupini: nibble open the side and eat the legume in the middle.
Salty and nutty but cold texture.

I wanted a glass of wine and felt bad for asking because they cost €2.90, but I got one anyway and was confused why Gino (the lover of all wines) didn’t want one too. When I went to get my wine I wanted to know how much it cost to buy a bottle incase I wanted to purchase a bottle to take away, and all three of the people serving me stopped and were like “ahhh….€2.90. You want this one don’t you?” Then it all made sense. No wonder Gino was confused when I asked why he hadn’t got any wine for himself. I excused my ignorance by being from New Zealand where wine is infinitely more expensive and ran off gleefully with a whole bottle of liquid gold and three glasses to start drinking it whilst waiting in line with Gino.

Il vino 

Gino is more of a natural than I

Lina and I with our wine

Gino’s brother, Ciro, and a friend, Lello (the best hairdresser in the world), came and found me by myself, drinking my wine, and took me to find us a table. When you purchase your food at a sagra, they also give you a couple of chequered plastic tablecloths, so we were able to set the table and wait for the food to arrive. Ciro left his 4-year-old daughter, Fabiola, with me who continued to show me her bracelets and teach me Italian while everyone was still waiting in line. It’s actually really interesting having young children around because Fabiola can’t really grasp the fact that I’m not Italian, and she ends up having to explain things so that I can better understand. I generally know what she’s talking about, but I knew we were in trouble when neither her nor I knew the word for “goosebumps”. We had to ask another lady, but for future reference, they are called “brividi”.

Fabiola: by this stage she was flinging peanut shells everywhere

Once everyone was seated we did our “cheers” with the wine and everyone started eating. Others had bought bags of nuts and lupini for the table, so we all sort of munched and drank away, enjoying the music, and huddling from the cold wind.

Our table, sorry it's a dark photo - I'm clearly not the photographer
Lello, Daniela and their two sons are in the front

Gino eating, again. Kebabs, bruschetta, salscicca, fries,  melon and red wine

At a certain point the people at the table next to us opened up a bottle of prosecco and the cork went flying, blasting our table with wine. Luckily it landed all over Lello and his wife, Daniela, opposite us, but instead of just accepting an apology, Daniela made the most of the opportunity and said “the least you could do is give me a bit too”. I think this is where the bottle of champagne came from when I arrived back at the table much later.

The bottle of champagne that somebody bought for us

Whilst people were finishing their meals, Lina and I went into the store to have a look at all of the foods, honeys, liqueurs and, of course, the wines. Apart from the 5l bottle of wine that we found, we also saw these huge metal, keg-like canisters (no doubt full of wine) and then a dispensary station where table wine was filled into 5l plastic bottles upon request with a pump quite like at a petrol station: white, rosé and red. I had to get a photo:

Kegs of table wine

The pumps of wine: white, rosé and red. €5 for 5L

All I bought here was a bottle of red wine to take to Germany for Campbell’s birthday, but as of tonight, it has already been devoured (sorry, sweetie! : ) I’ll get you another! At €2.90 it wasn’t too much of a pricey birthday present.)

Back at the table, after a bit of champagne and a peer-pressured sip of grappa (an amaro, or digestive) we joined in on the group dancing, even though none of us knew the moves. I thought it would be quite wise to sort of step in the back and follow along, not realising that each dance rotates around in a square so that you are only in the back row for about a quarter of the song and the rest you are in front of the audience. Nonetheless, I tried my best to pick up the moves and every time I managed to grasp the sequence right at the very end of the song. Perfect timing! Even still, I had tonnes of fun and gave up only once when I almost got run over, but by 12 it was really cold and it was time to head home.

The stage, tables and dancefloor

Gino, Daniela and I dancing at the back (the front).
None of us knew what we were doing

The night did not stop there, however. Given I was with my “parents”, it didn’t, by any means, become more outrageous, but was memorable nevertheless. We were all excited for frutte, dolci, liquori e caffè when we arrived home. Sadly I had already eaten the last peach, so there was no fruit, so instead, I started making espresso and getting out the liqueurs. The seal on the caffè macchinetta is a little bit loose, so sometimes the coffee comes out the side and we have to tighten it half way through the coffee-making process. I don’t like doing it because it’s too hot, so I asked Gino to give me a hand and passed him the teatowel. He picked up the macchinetta to tighten it, and the next thing you know the lid goes flying off (the metal having snapped near the handle) and scorching hot coffee spilt all over Gino’s forearm causing him to scream in pain as the macchinetta flew through the air, dousing the entire kitchen in a dripping black mess.

At first we were all shocked. Lina had to explain to Gino what had just happened as I ran to the freezer to find as many icepacks as possible. Once Gino had relaxed a bit, Lina started cleaning up the kitchen, but then (completely in character) Gino pipes up “heeeyyy, get us some nocino, a dolce and some caffè!!” This only made me laugh because he’s basically crippled in pain on a lounger with an arm smothered in cream and iceblocks on his feet and arm, but still wants dessert and liqueurs.

So I start making some more coffee, scared it might break again and getting out the liqueurs. I joke that we should play cazzimma (a card game that takes ages), but just as Lina went to sit down after cleaning the entire kitchen, the minute she touched the chair, one of the chair legs snapped off and she went skidding to the ground whacking her head on the corner of the cupboard and twisting both wrists on impact. This was the end of it for me. I could not breath because I was laughing so hard. Lina couldn’t move because she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but thank God ended up finding it hysterical. Gino immediately leapt to his feet to help Lina – cripple helping a cripple, go figure. Meanwhile, all I can do is find the fastest route to my camera to get a photo of the hysterics. At least now it is forever in my memory.

Lina immediately after the chair leg snapped off and Gino coming to the
rescue with burn cream on his arm

As I was taking the photo I swore I would not move and did not want to go to bed for fear that it would be my turn next. I then proceeded to stand like a candle for the next few minutes and refused to move. I was safe yesterday, but today is a whole other story. My turn was to come, and came it did.

I’ll come back to what happened in between (i.e the other festa I went to with Lina) but for now I need to elaborate. So this evening Carmine and his friend, Vincenzo, came over just as we were going out to do grocery shopping at 5:30 – I mention this because he told me I have to write it in my blog. When I told him it wasn’t important enough he uninvited me to everything, so I’m making it up to him.  Anyway, by 8:30 we came home and we were starving – the supermarket is huge and Italians are even worse with times when they are on holiday.

After putting all the shopping away, organising the pantry and fridge and preparing our dinners (we eat different things), Gino reached into the cupboard and pulled out a ginormous bottle of Montepulciano d’Abruzzo to have with dinner. He wanted to put it in the freezer to make it a bit fresher despite my insistence against this. Finally, well after 9, he let me go to get it out of the freezer. I open the freezer door, and before I realise what has happened, there is an almighty CRASH as blood red liquid splashes all over the floor and up the walls and glass flies across the room.

The Tragedy of the Wine. Note the murderscene-type footprints

I was absolutely stunned this time because I swear something has happened to this house. How else could we have so much bad luck in two days? Thank Christ my feet were apart so this giant bottle didn’t break the arches of my feet. The glass did, however, cut my toe open so it was off to the bathroom we went to bathe the wine from my feet and legs and stop my foot from bleeding.

Lina repairing my foot in the bathroom sink

Even though this had sort of caused an argument between Lina and Gino, and everyone was a bit serious, while my feet were being mended, I just had to ask Gino to go and get the camera. It’s a bit of a joke really, but so are our lives these days, so it’s only fair.

Having seen the state of the power cords from my seat and the extent of the glass and wine, I suggested we should clean. But Lina insisted “No! Mangiamo!” so eat we did. But not without the wine. Lina kindly reminded me that I had that bottle I bought for Campbell, and that we could drink it and buy him another one. I was open to the suggestion so we ate and drank our laughter and sorrows away. It was only when the doorbell rang that we all looked at each other and then slowly at the blood-like mess dripping down the walls and spilt all over the floor. It looked like a murder scene and none of us wanted to answer the door.

Gino went to the door and opened it very slowly with the sound of glass scraping along the tiles. You should have seen this poor man’s eyes when he peaked around the door only to see that we were eating normally, as if nothing had happened. God only knows what went through his mind, but I told him the body was in the next room. Gino quickly gave him a glass of the new wine, which he downed in one gulp before taking a phone number and leaving. He hesitantly came back a few minutes later to check he had taken the right number, but I don’t think we will see him in a while.

A while later, after an absolutely delicious meal of chickpea, rocket and Tuscan vegetable salad, with grilled zucchini and various cheeses, Lina spent 1 and a half hours cleaning the entire kitchen. But now we are all safe and clean and I think I need to go to bed and finish this tomorrow because it’s well after 1am.

The day following the first night of incidents was Thursday, a day much like most others: lots of beach and sun, but no swimming due to the wind which has now died down (taking with it my allergies). Lunch was another amazing caprese salad (mozzarella and tomatoes with a bit of basil, oregano and garlic) accompanied with a huge plate of blanched fresh green beans. I wasn’t feeling so well so I slept for three hours in the afternoon and then had a bit of a mental when I woke up and the dog was barking and there were about 9 people over all yelling. Instead of imploding, I went out for a walk and by the time I came back I had decided I didn’t want to go out anymore. This upset Lina, so I changed my mind and got ready (even though it was freezing outside) and we went to the Festa Gabbiano (meaning seagull) along the lungomare for dinner.

Both terrible, but this was the view from our table looking out a the street
These gazeboes are the food and drink stalls.

These are the market stalls

This festa wasn’t as big as the sagra the previous night, but it was still enjoyable. It was laid out in a U-shape off the road with the food stall and bar to the left a market game thing to the right, all the long tables in the centre and a stage with music at the back. The style of the festa was different too. There were two different primi piatti and about 8 or 9 secondi piatti, and then there were also snacks, and after 11pm cornetti caldi, panini etc. Lina and I decided we would get one primo each: I got the risotto di frutti di mare (seafood) and Lina got a type of casareccia (homemade) pasta that I cannot recall the name of, but it’s like spaghetti, except much thicker. My risotto came with mussels, prawns, cockles and a bit of octopus, and Lina’s pasta (which was really really good just by the way) came with tomato sugo and crab (but I didn’t see any crabmeat in it).

At the food tent to collect our tray of food. This shows everyone lining up.
Behind the girls serving is a table with plates of food ready to be handed out

This man was serving risotto and pasta from huge trays
The huge pot is filled with mussels

For the secondi, we decided to share a plate of cozze ripiene which are mussels stuffed with breadcrumbs and cheese and then cooked in a tomato sugo, and a plate of these little cheese and egg balls (like meatballs but white in colour and quite spongy) that are also cooked in a tomato/capsicum sugo. I have since found out they are called (in dialect): pallotte cac'e ove. The mussels were delicious, even if the photo doesn’t do them justice, but those little ball things were not for me. The consistency was odd, so I only ate one of them. All of this came with the best bread ever: soft and warm on the inside, and crusty on the outside – like all bread here. I also bought us some beer (in training for Germany).

Lina eating her pasta, risotto in front,
stuffed mussels front right, and the pallotte in the back.

Some friends came to join us while we ate, and as we were finishing, Gino arrived too. But it was too cold, so it was off home we went, arm in arm to drink nocino and play cazzissima until 1am.

Apart from lots more beach and tanning, since our trip to the supermarket I have more food for show-and-tell. I just ate lunch and I think I am about to pop, thank goodness there are only two more weeks of all this food… sometimes so good can become too good.

Anyway, the food. To start with, I have now tried two more dolci typical to Abruzzo. First, there are real bocconotti from the pasticceria. These are like little Christmas mince tarts (short pastry), except on the inside is a dense, dark cocoa/chocolate and nutty filling, and then they are dusted with icing sugar.

I bocconotti

The inside of a bocconotte

Then there are the cellucci; these other little croissant-shaped pastries made from a sugarless, eggless pastry (so it’s not sweet), filled with a dark dried grape mix that’s really tangy. On the outside the pastries are lightly coated in castor sugar. They are really nice, and not rich or sweet, if like me you want a dolce that’s not too intense.

I cellepieni or cjiellip jiene in the local dialect (Abruzzese)

At the supermarket we also purchased some mortadella because I never tried it when I was last here. In Naples they have huge mortadella, like I’m talking a 25cm radius, with a different coloured heart in the centre. But here, we found one that was three rings of various meat colours, and then the face of a little bear in the centre. Very cute, but possible not as tasty as the one we purchased, with peppercorns and pistachios through it. It’s really finely sliced so that you just get the flavour, rather than big chunky pieces of nuts. The aroma is to die for. I tried it last night and asked why I had never tried it before, to which Lina confirmed that it is exceptionally fatty. But I have been told we are yet to go to a sagra where they make a ginormous panino di mortadella with bread straight out of the oven, so this won’t be my last time to try it.

Mortadella

While I was at it, I thought I would take photos of the beautiful lunch I made us, which was basically just a giant salad of tomatoes, celery, rocket, green olives and onion, served with prosciutto crudo, prosciutto cotto, mortadella and freshly baked bread. Hopefully it will help you understand why my stomach is aching:

Our lunch

My plate of salad, prosciutto cotto and prosciutto crudo (in the back)

Prosciutto crudo

I’m still waiting to hear whether I am going along to this MASSIVE and I mean MASSIVE dinner tonight, which is apparently at a castle. I intend to go, but am a bit scared after Gino read me the menu last night… one course here is enough to feed a family, but seven or eight is insipid… luckily I have ZERO appetite right now.

The reason I’m not sure I’m going is because this morning two other big families arrived who have teenage girls and they asked if I wanted to spend the evening with them. So I’ll know soon if their families are going too, if not then we’ll just go out somewhere here. They’re so sweet, they were asking what I eat in New Zealand starting from breakfast right through the day. I couldn’t lie to them: I love porridge, though I made it clear that my taste does not represent the majority of New Zealanders. They had no idea what porridge was, so Pina made me google it on her cellphone. Wikipedia seemed to have an adequate description, but I don’t think “a soup of boiled oats served with cream and sugar” is a fair representation.

Then when I told them I love sushi and eat it quite often for lunch at university, all four of the girls were like “wowwww, I want to try it! I’ve never tried sushi!” Can you believe it? As much as Italian food is amazing, they don’t eat anything other than Italian food here. It’s really strange, so in a sense we are quite lucky that we get such variation in our culture. I promised them I would go to the biggest supermarket I could find and make them sushi one night. Fingers crossed they have nori. I know I saw Kikkoman soya sauce there, but nori might be pushing it.

But I think this is long enough for now! Sorry, I had lots to say! I hope you are still finding my blog interesting, and I thank you for following me! Pass on the link to others!!

Grazie!! E ciaoooooo!