Twist and shout

A bit of a varied weekend with some work at the house, a bit shopping and a smidgeon of rest and relaxation.

After my lesson yesterday morning we bobbed around MSP looking for some odds and ends, stocking up, amongst other things, on yogurts for my breakfasts (Italians are not big milk users so I need to get my calcium somewhere). As it was a glorious morning we stopped off for a Crodino Twist each by way of a pre-lunch gargle at the Bar Centrale. Crodino is a non-alcoholic aperitivo, amber in colour and refreshingly bitter, which you can buy ready mixed with something sparling making it a Crodino Twist. The finest, in our admittedly limited experience, is to be had in the Bar Centrale where it is served with lots of ice and a hefty slice of orange. During the very hot summer days, it became something of a Saturday lunchtime addiction.

Yesterday’s didn’t disappoint, though it was in stiff competition with the Campari sodas being downed by a stream of young bucks all trying to look like Marco Mengoni. These, dressed in their sharpest dark suits with skin tight trousers, narrow lapels and the obligatory white shirt, black sunglasses pushed insouciantly over foreheads, were guests at the wedding in the church a hundred metres down the street. How refreshingly civilised, I thought, to be sipping an aperitivo rather than knocking back pints of lager as a warm up to the nuptials – till I was told that the wedding had actually started half an hour before and these were all fugitives from the ceremony. Still, they did sport a fine display of bow ties, including two made of glass worn by a couple of ragazzi, so one has to be forgiving.

The wedding itself, it turned out, was Luigi’s son –of Mario and Luigi fame, from whom we bought the house. According to Stephen, who had a quick look inside the church as we drove past, it was a fantasia of black and white in the finest tradition of Wedding Planner, Italian Style. The reception afterwards was held at the Ristorante Villa Bianca – it’s good to know that Luigi’s share of our money is being put to purposes of which we heartily approve.

Now that Franco has finished the fence, Stephen and I spent a happy hour at the house in the afternoon making it Harry proof. This was necessary because, as the perimeter of our land is a tad uneven, there are places where, with the determination for which terriers are notorious, Harry would be able to scramble through. In the best Robinson Crusoe tradition, we used whatever came to hand – roof tiles, bricks, branches – to block the holes. To show his appreciation, Harry then spent a good half hour chasing Bella around the estate; that is, until some scent caught his attention when he grabbed a mouthful of fence and started trying to pull it down…

In the evening we were at Marco and Maddalena’s for dinner – which is like instantly gaining half a stone. “Don’t go to any trouble,” we said to Maddalena, which is like telling Rihanna not to bare her boobs. There was lots of everything – plates of anti-pasti, home made insalata russa, several kinds of bread, ravioli in brodo, fried potatoes, meat, salad and her aunt’s lemon cake. For those of you not familiar with Italian cake, it tends to be a bit on the dry and crumbly side; my theory for this being that it’s meant for dunking, either in coffee or something stronger. Maddi’s aunt’s cake is not like this at all, being light, airy and with a filling like a jellified version of lemon curd. It is the finest cake I have had in Italy - so fine that when Maddalena texted us today to suggest we go round again tonight to finish it off it took us all of a second to say yes.

Other than cake with the two Ms today has been a quiet one. We did make a mercy dash to Cuore Adriatico this morning in Romolo’s Fiat van to rescue our washing machine from Euronic’s warehouse. It has been floundering there because the company copied my telephone number down incorrectly so when they tried to let us know it had arrived they couldn’t get through. Just as well Stephen phoned to ask what had happened to it as we were days away from them sending it back. This seems a bit unfair on us as it wasn’t our fault – I can say this categorically as, when we bought it, I handed over the sheet of paper I always have on my person showing all my details. I use this as, unlike in the UK, when you buy more expensive items or pay by debit or credit card you have to give various details including your carta d’identita number. It’s easier, therefore, to have them all written out ready for inspection.

As for the cake, it was just as good the second time and untainted by eating it while watching some of the Italian X-Factor. Not surprisingly, it is very similar to the UK original except they do a lot more talking with the wannabes and instead of Simon Cowell you get Miko, Skin from Skunk Anansie and a man whose tattooed neck looks like something from Esher. I’ll leave it to you to decide which is better.