Trento - A Wish for Colder Weather

Los Angeles has been absurdly hot recently and it is really starting to get annoying. I smell smoke in the air and my sinuses are clobbering the inside of my head. I really like Autumn. I really like the clothes I get to envelop myself in during Autumn. Pretty soon it will be time for WINTER, and I welcome it with open arms, so here are some memories from Trento to hurry its arrival.

My dad came to visit me in Italy last winter, and the first thing we did was hop on a train up to the region of Trentino Alto-Adige to see the snow and the famous Christmas market.

I have a few cousins that live in Bolzano, or Bozen as the Austrians call it. One of them is a Guardia di Finanza, I guess it means financial police, but I never really figured out exactly what they do except solve murders by tracking the receipts of the murder weapons to their respective hardware stores. (Italy has way too many kinds of police.)

Anways, it is a really interesting region because it only became a part of Italy after WWI, which means that everyone there speaks several languages: German, Italian, probably English, and very likely Ladino, which is a Latin-Celtic ancient mix that is considered its own language, not an Italian dialect. Mostly everyone becomes at least bilingual in their public schools at a very early age.

It is such a beautiful city, nestled in the Alps, and UCLA has an EAP program there! The cold air that wakes you up by prickling your face really makes you open your eyes to the surroundings. The main piazza is arranged in two concentric circles of wood-log booths during Christmas and is very famous for its Austro-Italian food, hot wine and Christmas crafts. Dad and I ate at the first warm restaurant that would let us in without reservations, and that is where I first tasted strozzapreti, the translation for which is preist-stranglers. They are cheesy, spinachy gnocchi that literally do choke on the way down.

Since it is a popular vacation spot for Italian skiiers, it has a massive section of expensive shopping that is composed of long, winding alleys with hidden doors and NIKE outlets stuffed into 16th century palazzi. During the Christmas season, the city decorates miles of these such alleys with Trentino stars like the ones in the picture above. The picture below is a Trentino basilica whose patron saint's name I have long forgotten.

So that's a little bit of Trento.

Adriana Streifer at the Getty

I love these. They just speak Adri to me.

I took them about two weeks ago when she, Carlo Martini, and I had a wine, cheese, and grapes picnic at the Getty Center. We saw an exhibit on photographs of America - mostly suburbs, gas stations, underprivileged, you know, the kinds of photos that win awards. Adri explained some interesting tidbits about California to me and Carlo, and I was lucky enough to catch her on digital film (an oxymoron), through some strategically planted weeds.

Today, I have a recommendation.

After spending some time watching political commentaries and browsing the Food Network website during commercial breaks, I have decided to share an opinion, and it’s no coincidence that the opinion is enological rather than political: I love Prosecco.

Here is a bit of information:
It is a dry, usually fizzy Italian wine with pear or green apple undertones and a floral or bread dough/crust aroma whose grapes come exclusively from the Veneto between the Dolomites and the Aegean (Venice is the capital of the region). There are three traditional varieties: tranquillo (still), frizzante (semi-sparkling), and spumante (fully sparkling). It is a low 21 proof, and it is gaining popularity internationally as an aperitivo (aperitif) – especially in West Hollywood as soon as I can convince stores other than Trader Joe’s to carry it in stock.

I can't remember the first time I tried it, but most likely it was around the same time that I tried Martini & Rossi’s Martini Bianco, which is a sweet vermouth that seems to be even rarer in the United States than Prosecco. Green olive with a wooden skewer through it bobbing and dragging along the bottom of the glass, my stomach perceives it as an entire meal: black pepper the entrée, vanilla the dessert.

Anyways, Prosecco is my number one choice for aperitif these days because it actually functions in opening up the stomach before a large meal, it tastes like sour gold, it fizzes as it goes down, and it makes a great model for my Nikon D50. . .

Here the straw color is evident, even if the liquid might be a little more red given the presence of the single raspberry. Yes, there is a single raspberry - the one on top is a reflection.

Amanda Nickelson

She and her identical twin Amy (who is married and has three kids) are turning 27 next month. She is really good at multi-tasking, making cappuccini, giving fashion advice, remaining calm during emergencies, and having a pleasant time.

We first met in Rome, but she doesn't remember. In Padua we had a class together that was altogether too difficult. One night, after resigning ourselves to failure, we stopped doing homework and went to Caffè Madrid to get free spritzes during happy hour. Once there, we vanquished an Uzbekistani exchange student with a cowboy hat who had recognized her from a hostel - we used the "not so ambiguous sexual orientation" trick. Then we moved in together along with Dima, Alba, and Eric. She is now in Seattle tackling her grandfather's Alzheimer's while planning a future relocation to New York City.