Try as you might, there’s no escaping football. My first night in Italy found us in the bar Atlantide, with a beer and the match between Lazio and Udinese blaring from the television screens.
“I used to think England was bad, but here is worse,” said Sherry. “Still, you do get to see a nice patch of green and some pretty knees.” The camera homed in on the goalkeeper as she said this. “There … see? Football does have some good points.”
Carlo ignored our commentary.
I was in Italy to visit family for Christmas for a couple of weeks of wine and good food (Carlo, my step-dad, is an amazing cook) and an introduction to some local delicacies: Vino Novello (a great success) and brovada (the jury’s still out on that one). It was also a chance to check out the new place. My parents have recently moved into a new apartment, and they’ve done a great job with it. It’s warm and cosy (yes, the central heating works as it should for a change), and shielded by a row of lush sea pines. This Christmas, it was also festive. It’s been a while since I last saw so many Christmas decorations.
I particularly liked the small extra fridge in the kitchen, full of wine bottles.
Of course, one of the reasons the flat is so tidy is that there is a lot of stuff still packed in boxes in a room dubbed Aladdin’s Cave. I took a peek, and made sure to back away, slowly.
Max hard at work in the kitchen
Christmas Day itself dawned bright and sunny, with not a cloud to be seen. My brother Max has clearly inherited the culinary gene from Carlo, and volunteered to cook lunch. And very impressively too. Although his approach is a bit more all-encompassing than Carlo’s – Max hasn’t met a cooking pan he doesn’t want to use. Carlo took one look at the aftermath in the kitchen, and muttered something about barbarian hordes.
We walked off the food by the sea at Grado, the resort’s art deco architecture lit by the beautiful low winter light, and drank hot chocolate at the Duca d’Aosta bar.
Boxing Day was lazy, a day of leftovers and Christmas pudding (from Marks & Spencers, courtesy of yours truly) and a trip to the cinema to see the second Sherlock Holmes movie. It was a slightly surreal auditory experience to hear Stephen Fry dubbed into Italian.
A belated Buon Natale to everyone!
Sherry at the beach on Christmas Day
A glass of Novello will do nicely
