A cornucopia

28th January 2025

Christmas week and as previously foreshadowed (though I guess it would be a bit hard to foreshadow retrospectively) Monday evening we were at Marco and Maddalena’s to exchange presents and break bread together. “Don’t do a lot,” Stephen had said. “No, just tortellini in brodo,” Maddalena replied.

We are, by now, well versed in just what “just” means to Maddalena, though to be fair, she did show some restraint when there were just a few olive all’ascolana to start followed by the tortellini, enough for a hearty bowlful plus slightly less for seconds. That polished off, out came, in the Italian way, a platter with the chunks of beef used to make the brodo as well a generous dish of chicory, an equally generous one of homemade insalata russa, and a sauce made from the whizzed-up vegetables used, like the meat, to make the brodo.

Quite modest, really, though she did forget about the salad until after we’d cut into the panettone from Totò, by which time it was too late to make us eat anything else – not that it stopped her sending us home with a doggy bag of meat, Russian salad and chicory. The latter two mixed well with the cold pasta from Sunday for our packed lunches on Tuesday (strictly speaking only Stephen’s is packed, mine is on a plate and kept in the fridge) while the former was much appreciated by Peggy and Harry, added as a treat to their breakfasts over the next couple of days.

I had the excitement of another early Christmas present on Tuesday, one which outstripped the two pens from Giorgiottica and set a high bar for the week. With the help of bff Manuel and his contact at the hospital, Stephen’s form for next year’s tessera sanitaria was ready for payment and authorisation at the Post Office, and when he stopped on the narrow street I leapt out feverishly, the papers hot in my sweaty hands, as there was no queue. I had gone in, sat down and Paolo was busy processing it by the time Stephen arrived after parking the car (in an available space in the square; it was a good day all round).

Of course, when we had finished a queue of four had accrued, though we can hardly be held responsible for that – especially as it took two tries for the payment to go through. The first time it was refused as the total exceeded the daily limit for transactions, thanks to adding the cost of the birthday card to the total, which was a €1.35 stamp too far. This we paid with ready money and the problem solved it was off to Pina for cappuccino and cake.

Tuesday was also, of course, Stephen’s final day at work before the break, and in keeping with the recent trend it was after eight before he got home. This time, however, it was because Bertrando had treated him and Cecilia to celebratory aperitivo at Pan del Re in Cassette d’Ete, which had the added bonus of relieving me of the worry of whether to hold back the evening merenda or not.

As to whether or not Christmas Eve could exceed such an exciting day really depends on your chosen criteria; based on ours, it did, starting with breakfast at Bar del Borgo then shopping at Coal before splitting up so I could have my hair cut (not wanting Friday’s holiday to throw us completely off kilter) while Stephen took his present round to his bff who was, as so often, at his mother’s. I walked round after my quality time with Rocco, politely accepted a small slice of Manuel’s mum’s homemade serpente (see previous Christmases if you don’t know about that particular MSP delicacy) before heading home.

The afternoon was spent most profitably with Stephen upcycling the outside dog bed and me getting a march on a spot of cooking. The dog bed started showing some wear towards the end of the summer, with the cover rubbing thin in a couple of places before opening up into holes exposing the lining and then, over time, the filling. Obviously, this wasn’t the style to which Peggy has become accustomed, nor that Harry has always taken for granted, so Stephen had the bright idea to stitch two cushion covers of a tapestry vibe which we no longer use onto the top of the dog bed. So good is the result that it could be the start of a profitable cottage industry, but while we’re not short of old cushion covers, we might have a bit of a problem time wise amassing enough worn through dog beds.

That and the cooking (a polpettone for the next day’s evening buffet and a batch of Sophie Grigson’s Cuban Piccadillo, one of our long-standing and favourite winter recipes, in case something is needed over the weekend) out of the way, we finished the last part of my dog jigsaw Advent calendar (a present from Peggy and Harry, of course) before a relaxing evening of g&t, pizza and TV before the big day.

And what of that? We were up at the usual hour, time and tide and dogs waiting for no man, and set to opening presents pretty sharply once the first walk of the morning had been completed and a pot of tea brewed. As ever, Stephen embarrassed me with a wealth of gifts, especially when I unwrapped a particularly heavy parcel to reveal a kilo bag of popcorn. Maybe embarrassed isn’t the right word for beating me to the draw as nestled amongst his presents was also a parcel with a kilo bag of the same popcorn because, taking inspiration from our recent Bologna trip, we had both had the brilliant idea to buy the other a popcorn maker.

At least we’d narrowly avoided choosing the same make as his choice, a Beltron Sweet Dreams retro style machine in powder blue, was one I dithered over before finally settling on a different model. Obviously, two was one over the optimum number and as I’d bought mine recently enough for it to be within the window for returning to Amazon it was decided we would send that back and keep Stephen’s altogether superior maker – my words, not his.

This was followed by dog walking then a relaxed morning coffee with panettone for a belated breakfast before getting on the glad rags for lunch at YaYa Sushi. There was an adequate number of other diners, mostly couples though a party of ten arrived while we were there, to give enough of a pleasant atmosphere though our table’s tablet was a bit hit and miss in making a connection when we tried to send our various selections. It did manage to cooperate enough for us to eat a hearty sufficiency despite the non-arrival of the chicken kebabs that were part of the last tranche ordered.

For all we know, there is still a bereft waiter wandering around with them but after waiting some time we moved on to coffee then it was back to LCDDB for afternoon walk and settling down to watch Wake Up Dead Man: A Knives Out Mystery. A little more down time afterwards to recover geared us up for an evening gargle then Christmas buffet and a spot of entertaining TV before bedtime called. All in all, a pretty perfect day.

The question then was, could Boxing Day live up to the standard already set? Yes, mostly. It was a day spent at home with several domestic highlights and one disappointment. Dispensing with the bad news first, Stephen had anticipated spending a happy quarter of an hour assembling the KitKat cabin that was one of his presents, but was thwarted when he found that most had broken apart inside their individual packets.

On the nice list, though, were scrambled eggs and smoked salmon on toasted sourdough bread for lunch, starting on the panettone from Totò, and making our first batch of popcorn, in my machine from Stephen (see above). This latter was a great success, lightly salted and still warm it went very well as an aperitivo though we will in future have a large bowl ready whilst it cooks – not just because a little corn goes a very long way but as the kernals popped they did demonstrate a propensity to bounce out at odd angles and catching them seemed reminiscent of a Generation Game Christmas Special.

There has been, this weekend, a Mercato Usato that Stephen has had his eye on and our decision to not spend all our time at home proved a good move when the sun, which has continued to shine on another at home day today, came out after lunch yesterday just before we headed north-west to the site in Villa Potenza, the other side of Macerata. It’s a few years since we were last there, and it was most disappointing to see that they had refurbished the main building, giving it an almost professional air. Fortunately, the stalls were still in the capacious and slightly more ramshackle tented area in the large outside space, which is really what you expect for a second-hand market.

We spent a happy hour or so wandering round, weighing up options. Stephen had hoped that there might be one or two of the large metal tubs we use as planters at the front of the house. It was obviously not the right time of year for such things, but fear not, he didn’t come away empty-handed. He spied some 70s fashion periodicals on one particular stall and after close inspection settled on two women’s wear trend forecast papers. What he’s planning to do with them I can’t say, maybe just have the pleasure of owning them, which is no bad reason in the great scheme of things – and unlike a couple of tubs, they didn’t need heaving back to the car and wrangling into the boot.