Let there be light

The days may be continuing to grow shorter and the evenings darken, but at least, thanks in large part to Alessandro, this week has seen us being able to celebrate our own festival of lights. Once again we have been able to illuminate our driveway and can take Bella and Harry for their nightly constitutional without stumbling up the road, though there is chance that a passing plane might mistake LCDDB and its environs for a landing stip.

Our escape from darkness began on Tuesday when we returned to Smal to buy the outside light that we had not bought on Saturday because we thought it might not be long enough but which we now knew was the right size. We figured this out in our usual highly technical manner by standing on the terrazzo and looking at it. “It is the same size, isn’t it?” said Stephen. “Well, it looks like it,” I replied. Job done. We also bought the two floodlights that we had eyed up on our previous visit.

A text from Alessandro to Stephen further added to our joy by confirming that he would, indeed, be able to come on Saturday morning to install the new lights. Before that, however, we took delivery on Wednesday of two solar powered LED lights to position on the well. These, again, are operated by motion sensor and should give sufficient light to identify where Bella and Harry are should they ever venture into the further part of the garden. If you are starting to think that this is something akin to overkill, you may be right. Remember, however, that living down this road to nowhere, the only light sources are the moon and pinpricks from distant houses. With this new lighting we will be able to extend Bella and Harry’s playtime into the twilight zone as well as feel more comfortable about letting them into the garden if they feel the need for a spot of relief.

True to his word, Alessandro arrived yesterday morning and spent a happy couple of hours (well, they were for us) replacing the old light at the front, installing the new floodlights at the back and changing a couple of sockets. This latter act now means that we are no longer in danger of receiving an electric shock when we do the washing as the old socket in the downstairs shower room (and I use that term loosely) looked like it would leap out at us given the slightest provocation.

It does somehow, though, seem a bit odd talking about winter nights when the days have continued to be clear and, at least in the sun, warm. Bella and Harry are making the most of this, spending their time lazing on the terrazzo after the sun reaches it around the middle of the morning. It’s also very pleasant for we humans too, especially if we can find a quiet corner of the garden to get a dose of Vitamin D, though not without a spot of company.

We’ve also had a couple of social outings this week, one purely for fun and the other a mixture of business and pleasure.

The first was on Tuesday when Stephen had another meeting about producing some shoes. The meeting was again hosted by the man with the fabulous lonza (see 30th October entry) and again I had very little to contribute to the discussion but tried to look suitably impressed as Stephen presented his design ideas. However, my patience was rewarded when it came time to eat. On this occasion, as well as some of his wonderful home cured salumi, we had pizza, and this is where I learned a fabulous tip, which I am going to pass on to you, dear reader.

The slices of pizza, as is usual, had been bought earlier from a local pizzeria and was, obviously, cold and required warming up. Now I don’t know about you but whenever I’ve reheated pizza in an oven it comes out piping hot but also a little too crispy, if not a tad overdone. However, this pizza was both hot and still moist and succulent because it had been reheated in a high-sided frying pan. How simple and how had it never occurred to me before? Using a dry frying pan crisped up the base and heated the topping but without drying either of them out. Please feel free to try this for yourself if you ever have left over pizza (admittedly, not something that happens all that often in this household); you won’t be disappointed.

It was while we were on our way home from this meeting that we had our second sighting of our friendly, local porcupine, which we again caught in our headlights scurrying away down the road. This time he (or she) was all on his own as his companion was nowhere in sight. What was in sight, though, was a fox, who raised its quizzical head at the sound of the pattering feet and our approaching car. The fox was hanging round the bottom of our cachi tree, presumably feasting on the overripe fruit that had fallen onto the ground, until we disturbed him. At least we now know of another use for the persimmon, apart from making jam that’s too sweet to eat.

Our second outing was a trip to the big city yesterday evening, when we hit Civitanova for fresh air and fun. First off was a stroll around the shops, where Stephen continued his search for some new trousers, still with no happy ending despite all the shops fiercely proclaiming massive Black Friday discounts. Yes, it was Saturday but it seems that in the great Americanisation of the known world, and retailers’ desire to part us from our cash, Friday now means Saturday, Sunday and Monday as well.

After this, we met up with Computer Luca, his brother and his brother’s partner, as Luca had kindly invited us all out to dinner. Before we got the restaurant, however, we went for aperitivi at Caffè Galleria, which, judging by the number of people jostling for tables both inside and out, is obviously one of the places to go. The reason for its popularity became clear when the array of stuzzichini arrived to accompany our drinks, which were on a whole new level from the usual bits of salami on roundels of bread. They not only looked appetising but tasted fabulous too, though they were rather filling, with the result that when we got the to restaurant no one was able for either antipasti or primi piatti. As I said to Stephen later, what you need to do is go shopping, have aperitivi at Caffè Galleria and then go home for a light supper.

A light supper was something distinctly not on the menu at Mr T-Bone (see what they did there with the name?), which is where we had dinner. This was a new venture for all of us and had been chosen specially on my account as about the only place in Civitanova that served meat rather than fish. And very nice meat it was too, cooked to order on the charcoal grill. If only the same could be said for the service, which was somewhat on the slow side. Not that I’m blaming the staff particularly, as on a busy Saturday night the owner might have put his hand in his pocket and made sure that the ratio of waiters to customers ensured that we didn’t need to ask twice where our panna cotta were and still leave without having enjoyed them. There are, I suppose, worse things in life than going pudding-less, though for the life of me I can’t think what they are.