I will fake it until I make it!

All about the escapades and thoughts of a girl who thinks WAY too much for her own good!

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Un tavolo per uno

Tuesday, November 24

Today was a good day. I was feeling particularly empowered, spurred on perhaps by a great conversation with my friend from home, Sherrie and recent download of fantastic female artists like Adele, Meaghan Smith, and Duffy.

I cooked a meal from scratch this evening. I haven’t done that in quite a while. I love to cook, but cooking for one pretty much sucks. There’s always too much food left over and the same meal for several days gets old. Writing about cooking for one reminds me of a time I was waiting to order at the seafood counter in Washington, DC. When it was my turn I asked for one Tilapia. The fish monger asked, “Just one?” I looked at the substantial line of people waiting behind me and replied, “Yes, just one and thanks for the painful reminder!” The people behind me laughed. I’m sure they could relate at some point in their lives.

It is in no way an exaggeration to say that most Italians eat some form of pasta every day. Have you ever checked out the calories involved in a box of pasta? I did once and then immediately admonished myself for doing so. Pasta has never really been the same since. How do these people stay thin when they eat so many carbs? The bread here alone will wreck any sensible diet. Then add the fussily, the ravioli, the gnocchi. OH MY GOD, I NEED SOME VEGETABLES STAT!

And that’s what I did. I went to the market and purchased some fresh eggplant, potatoes, zucchini, and yellow peppers. I just wanted some sautéed veggies. No pasta. No risotto. No rice, just veggies; and lots and lots of wine. You know what they say, "When in Rome…"

Feeling inspired, I stopped into the large wine shop on the corner that I had wanted to try for a while but was hesitant to do so (yes, because of the language thing. WHY DON'T THESE PEOPLE SPEAK ENGLISH FOR GOD’S SAKE?).  I started by asking the shop keeper in Italian if she spoke English. When she said, “no” in her very matter of fact tone and stared at me defiantly, I was forced to pull the words I needed in Italian. If I were to translate in English literally, I asked her, “What is there of good from a bottle of red wine from Tuscany for around $10 Euros.” I used hand signals for “around.”  She smiled and more “empowerment” came my way from getting it right!  When, I wonder, will I learn to trust myself? Every time I do, it works out. When I don't, I’m a wreck. It’s really not that difficult, but I still trip on this one way more than I’d like to.

I had fun cooking for myself. I cracked open one of my new bottles of wine, roasted the yellow pepper on the flame of the gas range, chopped up the eggplant, potatoes and zucchini and cranked up some Joss Stone on the iPod. I even imitated the professional chefs and flipped the veggies in the pan instead of using a spatula! I lit some candles and set the table for one. It felt good and the veggies were yummy.




I’m learning quite a bit by being here. And being okay with being “me” is one of the most important lessons I want to leave with. Lessons may come later in life than you would like, but if you’re open to them they do come. Life is good. I am happy.



1 comment:

  1. Your father is glad that you are having such a great time. You deserve it.
    The writing is terrific. I love it. Keep on learning!

    Love,

    Dad

    ReplyDelete