Un bambino del cibo

Salmon tartar. It's like a sashimi cake. And yes, I realize the picture above is steak tartar...

Salivation, French food is thy name. During our trip, we found the most amazing restaurant ever, thanks again to NYTimes travel section. Bistrot Victoires is fantastic, and has a very down to earth, every-day arrondissement-ers feel. There were French families and couples there eating. It was so fantastic that we went back a second night. Some of the others got this steak that had flaming thyme on top of it. My salmon tartar was insane... I've had tartar before, but never in a lump. Usually I've seen it in slices. For the arabs in the bunch, it was like Kibbey Neyeh, only made with salmon. Mom, you have to try to make that for Pascha this year.

I also have to confess, I caved again. I had duck. You can't go to Paris and NOT have Confit de Canard!  It was fantastic. Cooked so well it fell off the bone. Don't worry though. I used the prayer my Mosu taught me: "Dear Lord, grant me this wish. Turn this duck into a fish." I like to think he heard me.

It's also been a crazy couple of days here in Firenze. Jamie and I decided to try our hand at deep frying. We made Fiore di Zucche, or zucchini flowers. AMAZING. If you've never had zucchini flowers before, you need to go out right now and eat them. I don't even know how to begin to explain what they're like. I mean, they're flowers, but they're very vegetably? We also fried eggplant and zucchini sticks.

Which brings us to this morning. Jamie and I went to a cooking class on campus. The guy leading the session kept calling me "chef Matteo", so that was fun. And I learned that whenever you're making the base for a sauce, using white wine will clean the bottom of the pan (of burnt bits of pancetta and onion for example). Eggplant parm was also on the menu. The secret is to sprinkle the eggplant slices with salt and let them set for 2 hours before frying them. It gets all the extra water out of them. But what the people didn't do today, was adjust the rest of the recipe for the extra salt. YOU DON'T NEED ANY MORE SALT AFTER THE EGGPLANT! MY KIDNEYS ARE GOING INTO FAILURE! But still, it was delicious.

Ciao Bella!

"Chef Matteo" Yazge

Non e' Nancy!

That's not Nancy!

I was walking down the street today, and this totally happened to me. Someone started waiving, and I thought it was someone I knew. It wasn't. At all. I'm pretty sure she looked at me like I was a moron.

Speaking of seeing something familiar and then looking like a moron...

We found an American Apparel, and I promise that while in the picture it says American "pperal", it's the real deal. And because AA is part of our photo scavenger hunt, a photo shoot ensued... I promise that this pose is what one of the mannequins was doing in the window. Speaking of fashion though, everyone in Paris was very well dressed. Always. Even the babies. They looked like a bunch of midget J Crew models. I felt mildly underdressed the entire time we were in Paris.

BUT! I did find new shoes! Suede shoes! They're not blue though. So don't start singing or anything. Don't want to get over excited.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Pparel Posin'" Yazge

Non l'ho fatto...

Me, using my greatest asset to hold the tower up...

I completely forgot about my mini-excursion to Pisa! Our flight to Paris didn't leave until halfway through the day, so Trieste and I spent the morning in Pisa. There isn't a whole lot to the city. Just the tower, and a church that you have to pay to see the inside of. I think the outside is pretty enough...

The tower also costs money. Everything costs money. Money, money, money. And it's in euros, so that means that it costs at least a million US dollars just to breathe the air. It reminded me of the Cake Boss episode where they make the cake that is an exact replica of the Leaning Tower? It was reminiscent because all there was to see for an hour was a tower, and it cost a lot of money. So instead we just sat on the steps and watched all the people taking pictures. It's really funny to watch people pose for the pushing-over/hold-up the tower pictures when you're at the wrong angle.

It's also funny to try to explain to Asian tourists that they didn't actually take a picture of you... especially when they're seriously convinced that they did take a picture. On the bright side, as long as you say "scusa" they think you're Italian, and not American.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Tower-topplin'" Yazge

Paris, je t'aime

Look how photogenic we are! Oh, and the Tower doesn't look that bad either...

OK. So it's late, I realize, but I needed to start blogging. Otherwise it might not ever happen. My sinuses have been acting up ever since we first left Florence, coughing, sneezing, drippy, phlegm phlegm phlegm... Attractive, no? So I just took some cough syrup and a Zyrtec, and should be passed out in roughly 10 minutes. So let's do this fast!

I figured I'd start with the most easily recognizable part of our trip: La Tour Eiffel! It was the first part of Paris I saw as our bus from the airport rounded the corner at night. It was all lit up and just as romantic as everyone has ever described it. It was ironic, because I was reading My Life in France, the Julia Child memoir, and she was describing her first view of Paris. We share that. I also like to think we also share a God-given talent for cooking and a charisma that wins over the masses...

While we were taking pictures with the tower, we spotted these two wedding couples taking pictures in front of the tower. You know how I mentioned a while back that we were doing a photo scavenger hunt? Well one of the tasks was to get a picture with a bride and groom. One was to get a picture with Asian tourists (with points proportional to the number of Asians). Another extra 3 points for a picture in a foreign country. 2 bonus points if the picture is taken outside Italy. Because the two bridal parties were entirely Asian, and standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, Jamie and I scored SERIOUS points.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Tower Touring and Point Scoring" Yazge

P.S. - I regret to announce that the trip to Barcelona has been cancelled. Meridiana cancelled our flight, and there was no way to reschedule in a cost- or time-efficient manner. So we are taking suggestions for what I should do that weekend. Current options include Torino, Geneva, stay in Florence and recreate our own Barcelona complete with tapas and lisps. Whoever comes up with the best plan of action (including an itinerary of exciting activities) gets an all-expense paid trip to join me!

Just kidding! But I'll bake you some cookies? That sound good enough? Awesome.

Bella Firenze, Ti Amo

Oh Florence, how I've missed thee...

I'm falling in love with this city all over again. Fall break was wonderful, and there will be many a blog post about it. But I'm so glad to be back home. I'm not cut out for jumping from one city to the next in rapid-fire succession. Nor do I particularly enjoy hostels... So glad I stayed with friends for two of the stops (thanks Liz and Emma!)

Also, I would never recommend to anyone trying to spend anything less than an entire week in Paris. Or London for that matter. There's so much to see that you really can't do it in just 3 or 4 days. When I go back to Paris I want to make sure I make it to the Luxembourg Gardens and the cemetery - the one where Oscar Wilde is buried. I know there are other people there too, but his name is the only one that jumps out at me.

You'd also be very proud of me for traveling with just one very small bag and a tote bag for an entire weeks worth of travel plus souvenirs. Such a good packer.

But I'm so tired, and just content to be "home". There's some outdoor concert going on one piazza over from us, and you can hear it if you leave our windows open. It's all classical choral and orchestral music, and stunningly beautiful. Jamie and I are just staring out at the Duomo from our window, listening to the music, sipping our champagne, and celebrating a job well done on an amazing week of travel.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Fiorentino" Yazge

Mi ha derubato

Ugh... I'm so ANGRY!

Seriously?! SERIOUSLY!? I got pick pocketed... In a FARMER'S MARKET! I know I wasn't going to blog while I was on break, but this warrants it. I was walking through the green market here in London, trying to find things for Liz and I to make dinner with. And I got pick pocketed.

I've laughed at all the people from NYU Florence that have gotten pick pocketed, mainly because most of them were drunk when it happened. Of COURSE you're going to get pick pocketed. DUH. But I don't have an excuse. I just got robbed. Blind. They took my Flip Camera. So angry right now. I wasn't even dancing around like a drunken fool asking to be robbed. I was buying salmon. SALMON. I knew something smelled fishy...

So, this means that videos from both Paris and London are lost. But the good news is I still have my Nikon camera - which also takes video! So we'll just have to reenact the scenes from Paris and London. I'm working on it. I'm just too busy being angry. But I think God is trying to teach me a lesson in humility, because shortly after I got pick pocketed, I saw a man with no legs. I really didn't have much room to complain after that.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Furioso" Yazge

CIAO CIAO!

I'm off!!!

I just tried to send things in the mail, but I couldn't figure out the mailbox. Go figure.

Really, I need to leave now. So, bye! See you all in a week!


Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Gypsy at Heart" Yazge

Siesta = the besta

Nappy, nap, nap, nap, nap...

Correct. I am a small Asian baby. I'm glad you picked up on that. I was coloring for a really long time this morning, and by "coloring" I mean "taking a midterm". I'd like to let everyone know that I knocked it out of the park, by the by. But it was still a little exhausting, considering my brain is ready to jump into the Arno it's so tired.

So when I got home today, I made myself some lunch, and then passed out for a good 3 hours. It was glorious. I don't know why I don't nap more often. I mean, I'm a college student. After infants and geriatrics, we're supposed to be the next most nap-prone subset of society. I definitely will be taking more naps from here on out.

One last thing: I leave for our whirlwind adventure around Northern Europe on Friday. I'll still probably post tomorrow, but after that, it's going to be iffy for about 10 days. We're going to be in Paris from Friday until Tuesday morning, then we're off to London until that Friday. We spend the last weekend of our trip in Amsterdam (for the electronic music festival!) It's going to be amazing. If you have any suggestions on what we should see, lemme know. ALSO! There will be more videos. I would really really REALLY like some suggestions on possible topics. They should correspond to the cities we going to individually, or as a whole. Or possibly an overarching theme for the trip with subplots for each stop. We're open to all feasible artistic suggestions.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Jet Setting, but only after Nap Taking" Yazge

Ho dimenticato... sempre dimenticavo.

My brain is a puddle of chocolate-infused mush...

As you can tell from the wonderful picture of myself and Hannah, midterms are here. And they're making me want to throw myself into the Arno. I began stress eating this weekend, and last night was probably the worst it's been yet. In the past 16 hours I've eaten 3 bars of chocolate, half a batch of crepes with whipped creme and chocolate spread, a beer, and roughly 8 cups of coffee... Healthy, I know.

This morning was a mess. As I was walking to class, one of my friends asked how my paper turned out. I was really confused because it was only half done, and I was planning on finishing it tonight. False. It was due this morning. So I had a wonderful time explaining that to my professore, who just looked at me like I was a moron. I am. But that's not the point.

So instead of studying for my oral exam in Italian, I ran back to my apartment to get my laptop so I could finish my paper. I was in the middle of finishing my paper when I had to run to my oral exam, where I more or less managed to talk about Davide Santon (Sky Sports profile here) for 8 minutes. The guy is 18 and he's a starter for Inter and going to the World Cup for Italy. Seriously? What the hell have I been doing with my life? Um... forgetting when my assignments are due and talking about people who have accomplished things with their life while completely failing to do so myself? Plan.

I finished my paper about 30 minutes ago, and now I have to go start studying for my Business Law midterm. Can't WAIT until Thursday at 6pm. Then I can finally start planning my weeklong vacation. Paris here we come!

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Chocoholic" Yazge

Mal di dato

My finger needs a hug... from a baby marsupial. Or something.

I'm an intelligent human being. Really. I promise. But sometimes my brain goes on vacation. Last night was one such instance. Now, my finger needs a hug. Let's travel back in time and figure out what went wrong, shall we?

I studied all day yesterday. When I say all day, I mean all day. I wrote half of a midterm paper, did all my online assignments for Italian, did a practice midterm, made more Italian flash cards, and finished writing two opera reviews. Needless to say, around 8 o'clock my brain was fried. So Jamie and I decided to take a break and take a little walk across the river to get some gelato. It was exactly what I needed, but when we got back I decided I wanted tea. This is where things start to go downhill...

Most people realize that metal, when left for long periods of time over an open flame, becomes hot. Very hot actually. Scalding, even. Apparently my mind was still on break, because I decided to try and move the pot of boiling water with my bare hand. In my defense, I'm used to pots that have flame retardant handles. In fact, I - not the flame - was the only thing being retarded. After a few four letter words and dancing around in pain, I found myself staring into our freezer looking for something to rest my finger on. I tried the bottle of Sambuca first. When I realized that the frost on the outside of the bottle was not water, but liquor, I decided to swap it out for a package of shellfish. While I love the smell of Sambuca, I'd rather not bathe my finger in it.

I was going to type this all last night, but it's incredibly hard to type when your left hand is full of frozen fruta del mare.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Gimpy-hand" Yazge

La Chiese Russa di nuovo

It looks less ominous the second time around.

So I figure everyone deserves a second chance. Even rude priests. I went back to the Russian Church today, and it wasn't that bad. Partially because I showed up "late". The website says that they start Liturgy at 9:30. False. They start thinking about doing the pre-liturgical readings around 9:30. The service doesn't actually start until 10:15 or later. So when I showed up at 9:45, I still had to wait a good half an hour until Liturgy actually began. Instead of moaning like a bum like I did last time, I had private prayer time. All things considered, it was probably good for me.

I sang along to whatever hymns I knew, which was interesting because I knew the music, but clearly not the words. Slavonic isn't my forte. But apparently I was convincing enough that the woman standing in front of me offered to share the music she was holding - music that was written out in cyrillic. I just shrugged and said "Inglese". We both smiled and she turned around.

I may end up going back again, but as I'm spending most of my weekends out of town for the rest of the semester, I don't know when I'll be back next. I'm going to try to find an Orthodox Church in Paris and London. I feel those would both be fun experiences, one because it will be in French (hopefully) and the other because I'll actually understand what they're saying. Anyone been abroad and to an Orthodox Church they particularly enjoyed?

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Post Liturgical Nap-time" Yazge

L'Opera Bellissima

Amami, Alfredo.

We went back to the Opera last night for Il Trovatore, which ended up being a better cast than that of Rigoletto. I just need to remember to take a nap next time... before we go to the opera. Not during the 4th Act. Brooke and I decided to throw an aperativo - the Italian equivalent of drinks and appetizers - for our class before the show. It ended up only being four of us, but we had a nice time. Pear with peccarino and balsamic, red and green tomato bruschetta, homemade mushroom pasty puffs, peppers with tzatziki... and wine. My glass is probably what contributed to my nap. That and the fact that the Italians can't seem to grasp the concept of air conditioning. I'm sorry, but when you turn out the lights, crank up the heat, and make me listen to classical music, I'M GOING TO FALL ASLEEP! The people at NYU said that the Italians don't believe in air conditioning because they think it makes you sick. Right. And so they all smoke like chimneys because...?

But ignoring ignorance, I'd like to share how excited about La Traviata. It's one of the more moving love stories I've read/heard/seen. The really cool thing that I didn't realize until seeing La Traviata, is that Moulin Rouge takes almost all of its core plot developments from the opera. A "fallen woman" with consumption, a man who falls in love with her, story takes palce in Paris, a father figure who convinces her to lie and say she doesn't love the young man. I'd also like you to notice how Nicole Kidman and Anna Netrebko are both wearing red dresses. Just an awesome coincidence. I don't, however, think it's a coincidence that I love the music to both. La Traviata is the first operatic score that I would listen to from start to finish and be emotionally moved the whole way through. I'm so glad I ordered the Netrebko DVD. You should too. Prontissimo.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "the Troubador" Yazge

Il Presidente

Someone needs to give Michelle a Nobel for rocking that yellow dress.

I was astonished today to see that my meager little status had spurred on quite a debate, mainly among people that don't know each other, which is pretty hilarious. For anyone that lives under a rock, President Obama received a Nobel Peace Prize this morning for "extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples." Let's discuss, shall we?

Obama's not a bad guy. He means well. He likes to talk to people about their problems. He's kind of like Dear Abby in that sense.

Dear Bommy, 

     I keep getting shot at by foreigners. Also, I'm starving. Please help. 

                Love, 

                The World. 

Dear World, 

    I've got this. But let's talk a lot first, and I'm going to need a downpayment. A Nobel Prize, perhaps? 

                Sincerely, 

                'President-O' 

P.S. - O stands for Obama, not Oprah. Though with all her money, she might as well be Commander in Chief.

I'm pretty sure that that was the exact letter that won him the prize. But let's be perfectly honest here. Obama might be on the road to help fix some of our problems. He might. But right now, our economy is still broken, we still don't have healthcare reform, Iraq and Afghanistan are still huge messes and Pakistan becomes more and more of a problem each day, and the only tangible product of this administration so far is cash for clunkers. I don't know about you, but a President whose greatest achievement thusfar is being a used car salesman, doesn't deserve a Nobel Peace Prize. Oh, and apparently it makes sense for him to be trying to sell the world on the Olympics. How'd that go? Fail.

I will admit that since he's been in office, President Obama has radically changed the way the White House addresses the rest of the world. But let's face it: after George Bush ANYONE would look like a peaceful negotiator. And let's not forget that Obama received his nomination only TWO WEEKS after he was sworn into office. Could someone please explain to me what he did in those two weeks that so drastically caught the attention of the nominating committee?

I'm all about helping people. But let's actually do it.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Peace-in-the-Middle-East" Yazge

Rigoletto

Opera, now in Chunky. I can only hope that if I ever write an opera they'll put it on a soup can.

In a word: Delicious. In two words: Heart Burn. Although that could just be all the caffeine rushing through my system. We went to the Opera last night for class, and 3 cups of coffee were necessary today to keep me awake. I swear I'm a grandpa. If I'm not in bed by 9, I'm out of commission the next day. Next thing I know, I'm going to be asking if anyone's seen my catheter...

Last night was our first of three operas that we get to see in the following week. We saw Rigoletto last night. Il Trovatore is tomorrow, and La Traviata next Wednesday. I was impressed with the performance, but there were parts that made me glad that I got to go for free, like when the soprano was ridiculously flat during half of one of her arias. Or when the orchestra drowned out all the voices but the chorus. They used a minimalist set which was really nice though. Apparently they couldn't construct huge Zepherelli-esque sets because they have to switch out the Operas every 3 days or so.

The coolest part is that even though we went on an understudy night we got to see James Valenti, a famous American tenor, as the Duke. Our professor told us that Valenti was supposed to be the main actor for the role, but got demoted after completely missing a note in one of his pieces. I think that's a little unforgiving, but I'm not complaining that I got to see him.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Soupy" Yazge

Berlusconi Non C'è Perdoni

Why so down in the dumps?

We went to the opera tonight (don't worry, I'll get to that tomorrow) and I had to stay up finishing some work, but I couldn't resist writing about this once I saw the articles uploading around the web.

BERLUSCONI NO LONGER HAS IMMUNITY.

Yes. Silvio Berlusconi, Prime Minister of Italy, alleged sexual deviant, anti-trust violator, Mussolini Jr, guy who makes us glad the worst we've had in a while was a stained blue dress. He no longer has diplomatic immunity. Italy's Constitutional Court overruled a piece of legislation that gave Berlusconi and 3 other top officials immunity from prosecution. Mind you, he was the one that pushed for this law in the first place. While no immediate consequences are 100% clear, it's rather obvious that the big B's footing isn't quite as steady as it used to be. Also, what 73-year-old has jet-black hair? Dye job.

Do you smell that? It's a juicy and a little sweet. Someone's goose is cooked.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Sleep-deprived" Yazge

Nel Mundo de Deportes

Sulley Montari in Inter's match against Udinese.

Professionals
Let us turn first to soccer, futbol, calcio, whatever you want to call it. As you'll learn, I read NYTimes like it's going out of business. Funny, because it may end up doing so in the current economic climate - not to mention that newspapers everywhere are flailing around like stinking, half-dead fish. But I digress. The NYTimes published an article about the recent Inter-Udinese match in Milan. It discussed, among other things, the state of race-relations in Italy. The match was not going well for Milan when the coach pulled Sulley Montari, one of Milan's star players, from the game. According to the article there was some pretty heinous boo-ing, much of which - as the article suggests - was due to the fact that Montari is a black Muslim. I'd heard that Italy had race issues, but I had no idea that they were this bad. I've become less and less enchanted with the culture here in Italy. I'm sure what I've experienced is not an accurate depiction of the entire country, but I definitely feel the country could use a civil rights movement. It's pretty bad when a coach says that your religious beliefs aren't convenient for your team.

Me
Coming back to my own life, I'm not playing soccer, but I did go to pilates yesterday. It's a LOT harder than it looks. NYU Florence brings in someone to teach a class every Monday night. This lady is a little southern belle - who reminds me a lot of Deborah Finley! She moved to Florence from Atlanta 4 years ago, and she brought her pilates studio with her. I was the only guy in the class - a point she kept bringing up: "You know, you're a smart guy! Those other guys have no idea that they're missin' out on all these lovely little ladies!" She also was very amused by my inability to do most of the exercises. I have a REALLY weak core. I did alright on the exercises that required balance, but anything that required me to isolate muscles other than my core didn't go so well. It's really hard to move your legs without using the majority of your leg muscles. Once, I mistakenly started rotating my foot at the ankle, which prompted her to say "don't you wish" and then proceed to forcibly move my entire leg in sweeping circles from the hip. She kept saying to lift from my abs. I wanted to tell her that I didn't have any...

I made myself feel better with a 5K run afterwards, because running is something that I don't entirely fail at. This is on top of the 4 miles I walked back and forth from campus. So needless to say I'm exhausted, and my Zytec from this morning and the glass of wine I had with dinner aren't helping. I'm off to bed before I fall asleep on my keyboard!


Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Sore-in-muscles-he-didn't-know-he-had" Yazge


P.S. - I realize that the title of my blog today is in Spanish. I feel I owe the rest of Europe my due dilligence, so there will be a flavorful mix of languages from now on!

Davvero?!?!

Hot Mess, party of two?

I can understand how some might believe Lindsay Lohan to belong in the world of fashion. She is indeed rail thin, she's had her fair share of addictions, and she refuses to eat. All things near and dear to the fashion industry's heart. But if you heard anything about the Ungaro runway show in Paris this week, there should no longer be any doubt in your mind about Ms. Lohan's capacity to work in the world of fashion.

The New York Times review of the Ungaro showing, for which Lindsay was artistic advisor, didn't spare anyone's feelings. Apparently, attendees of the show were BOLTING for the doors as soon as it was over. For the second show, one of the photographers asked people in the front row to pose like Lindsay, with their hands shyly in front of their faces. I'm suprised that she even has the strength to lift her poor little emaciated arms after putting so much time and crazy into the clothes. How anyone thought that she should be a vital part of any high-end fashion line is beyond me. I don't know how designer Estrella Archs can stand to work with her. Her predecessor, Esteban Cortezar, had the right idea when he quit upon the suggestion that he work with Lindsay. Eric Wilson puts it perfectly in his article:

But Ms. Lohan’s arrival at a 45-year-old Paris house known for $1,500 dresses and a tradition of couture craftsmanship is entirely different, something akin to a McDonald’s fry cook taking the reins of a three-star Michelin restaurant.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Lohan-Loathing" Yazge

Tah-Dah!

It's finally here! The official Wafflefest '09 Video!!!

This should accurately depict how awesome the waffles were. The video quality isn't entirely up to par, because I had to compress it to a smaller size in order to upload it to Youtube without problems. My apologies. But you should get the gist of it. Also if the sound isn't working that great, use headphones. I've found that helps. At least when you live on a busy street next to the Duomo. Enjoy!

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Wafflemeister" Yazge

CIALDEFESTA VIDEO!!!

I'm trying to upload the video. It's taking a while. Look back in a couple hours.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Technologically Frustrated" Yazge

Il mio Spagnolo

Our hotel, setting for Matty Koo-stina Barcelona

Don't worry. I haven't forgotten the most important post from Belgium: Waffles. That will be covered later today. But right now I need to share a bit about my interactions with the Spanish language today.

I went to the store to get the last few ingredients I needed for my pumpkin soup (recipe here). It turned out amazing in case anyone was wondering. But on my way back I stopped by the Paperback Exchange, a bookstore run by a couple English women here in Florence. I really wanted to get a copy of My Life in France by Julia Childs before I end up in Paris. Liz read it, and I feel that before we embark on our Parisian culinary adventures, we should be on the same page, both literally and figuratively. Anyway, I was waiting to pay when this adorable little Spanish couple walked in. They were asking the girl at the register something, but in Spanish. She had no idea what they were saying, so I mustered some chutzpah and started speaking to the abuelitos in Spanish. Well, what I hoped was Spanish. I've been in Italian for so long, I was blending everything. The good news is, I could understand them (even through their Barcelona accents). They wanted to go to Il Papiro, a local hand-made paper store, but it was closed. You'd think of all people the Spanish would understand the store was on siesta. But I gave them directions to my favorite little paper store (which is way cheaper), and they went on their merry little way.

While I thought I'd be done using my rusty Spanish for the day, we finally found a hotel for our weekend trip to Barcelona. Trieste and I decided it would be best to call them first before we booked online. So I used my Skype account and ended up speaking to a guy who kept using the word "habitaciones". In my head I was like, "why the devil does he want to know where we live?" Later I looked up the word and realized it meant "hotel rooms." I thanked him for his help and went online to book instead. I really need to brush up before we go. Maybe I'll just listen to some Ricky Martin?

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Quijote" Yazge

Le Olimpiadi

Shock on the face of Chicago after it lost the bid for the 2016 Olympic Games... it's delicious.

OK. I love Chicago. I do. It's a wonderful city. But you HAVE to love the ridiculousness of these people's reactions. Especially the lady in the jean jacket? Hello Midwest! We have reverted to wearing denim on the upper halves of our bodies again. It was worth me posting again today. Aren't you tickled?

Sure. We all would have loved to go to the Olympics here because it's cheaper. I get that. But now it just means we get to go to Rio. Lots more fun. Lots more beach. But I think where Chicago went wrong involves the sign being held by the woman in the lower right. Oprah?! Really... No, no, no. Pushy Americans scare the rest of the world, and no one embodies the pushy American more than Oprah. That crazy lady is hell-bent on total world domination. Frankly I'm shocked that the had the guts to tell her no. She could buy and sell them five times over. Or whatever it is that rich people use their money to do to poor people. Put it in a big bag and then beat them over the head with it?

My approach would have been completely different. Here's who I would have sent in lieu of the big "O":

TAYLOR SCHAFFER, US OLYMPIC REPRESENTATIVE 2012!

(In the mean time, Miss ISU 2009!)

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Rio Ruvin'" Yazge

Ciocolato Belgio

 

Chocolate versions of the peeing boy statue; the outside of Pierre Marcolini - chocolate genius.

Belgian chocolate lives up to the hype. They even make chocolate in the shape of naked babies peeing! Apparently the peeing baby is this really famous fountain (as famous as a fountain in Brussels can be). We saw it. I guess it looked famous. Lots of people were taking pictures of it while it was making a gross display of itself in public. Kind of like Lindsay Lohan. Only it worked more like one of those 5 pound plastic dolls that really wets itself. Kind of like Lindsay Lohan. The water part of the fountain is the pee... Must be famous. Anyway, they sell all kinds of versions of the statue/fountain/baby. I saw these huge 3 foot tall chocolate replicas in all different colors. A picture was necessary.

Chocolat du Pierre

But the real chocolate was at Pierre Marcolini. Erika found it online before we went. Follow the link and watch the video about how he crafts his chocolates. The man is brilliant. While we were there we found out that there's a Park Avenue location, so I can get it as often as I want when I go home! One of the things I found to be the most special was this 16 piece collection of chocolates, each of which uses a different type of cocoa bean from a various parts of the world. It's all dark chocolate, 70%+. They only way to do chocolate really. Although to be fair I did try the free milk chocolate and almond samples they had out, and they weren't bad. I'm not a huge milk chocolate person. I think it may have dirtied my teeth a bit, but the girls behind the counter were insisting. I didn't want to be rude. Just don't let dark chocolate find out. She can't know I've been seeing other chocolates. Because deep down, I love my chocolate just like I love my women: dark and with a cup of coffee.

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Au Chocolat" Yazge

I cibi del cielo

I want to go back. Immediately.

Les Brassins might have been the best part of the entire trip. You have to understand that, for me, there is nothing more enjoyable than food. I eat to relax; I eat for fun; I eat to eat; I eat and eat and eat. I dropped over $45 on dinner at Les Brassins. Why? Because it was amazing.

Appetizer: Spinach Soup and Stewed Mussels

Deep down I knew that I really wanted French Onion soup, but I opted for something new and different. I have this complex when I eat out, that once I've tried something I like I refuse to order anything different. Since I'm abroad and trying new things, I thought it'd be a good idea to branch out gastronomically. It proved to be a decent decision, though after eating half of Sonali's French Onion soup, I realized that I still have a ways to go before I'm free of my old restaurant habits. Do they offer counseling for your dinner palate?

By far and away the highlight of the evening was the mussels. Stewed in a garlic cream sauce with celery and onion, these little guys were the most delicious shell fish I may have ever eaten. Jamie and I split an entrée  portion as an appetizer. Best decision I've made in recent history. I would also be remiss if I didn't point out the humor in eating "mussels in Brussels."

Main Course: Warmed Goat Cheese Salad with Smoked Salmon

We all know how much I love the goat cheese. God bless that little baa-ing animal for deciding to lactate. The plate was arranged with two large, thin slices of smoked salmon on top of field greens. This was drizzled with some type of yellow dressing that had what I think was dill. My mouth was too in awe to differentiate distinct herbs. On top of all of that was a piece of toasted bread that had been soaked in some sort of honey glaze. Normally I'm a huge fan of honey, and glazes, but it tended to be a bit too sweet for me because of the sweetness of the dressing. It did go very well with the ring of warmed goat cheese that sat on top of the toasted bread though. The cheese was fantastic, golden around the edges, with a bite but not bitter. The overall effect of the salad was heaven. I had to forsake the glaze-soaked bread halfway through because it was too strong, but if that's my only complaint of the evening, I think the restaurant did a fairly good job.

To Drink: Bourgogne des Flandres

I'm not a huge beer person, but when it's properly matched to the food you're eating (Corona with ceviche, Stella with Pommes Frites) it does amazing things to bring out the flavor. The waitress recommended this one, which was dark with subtle notes of honey and spice. It went really well with the salad, and even the mussels. When the waitress first brought it out to us, I started to take the bottle to my lips to taste it, but then I saw that she had a glasses for us to pour it into. We both laughed a little bit, and she earned a little bigger tip. I do have to say that the entire staff was wonderful. Very cheerful and funny. One even told Lindsey that she had to finish her beef stew before she was allowed to leave!

Dessert: No room.

But I would have gotten one of their molten chocolate cakes.

We were really tempted to go back the next day for lunch, but none of us wanted to taint the experience. And judging by how busy it was the night we were there (we got the only table that wasn't already reserved) we might not have been able to find a seat. It's no surprise that it's always packed, what with the yellowed lighting, French posters all over the walls, and Jazz music playing softly in the background. You can't help but get the warm fuzzies. But maybe that was just the Bourgogne des Flanders talking!

Ciao Bella!

Matteo "Brassins-boy" Yazge