Ciao Como!

I just returned from a fabulous week in Italy with my three bff's from school…it's amazing how you can feel rejuvenated and exhausted all at once!

We were told the apartment we rented had wi-fi. I brought my computer with and wanted to blog while we were there, but of course, nothing's perfect. The place was spacious and perfect for 4 girls on an Italian getaway. We were right on the lake in a town called Lezzeno near Bellagio. (The photo is just standing on our terrace.) So, I open my computer the first night, and no signal.

The owner lives across the way, so we asked her about it…"oh yes, there's in-terr-net" in her staccato Italian accent.

"See, you walk up the hill to our how-ze. And then you can get the in-terr-net."

Ummm…OK. That's not what Americans think of as wi-fi access accommodation, but if you're really in need of Skype, Facebook or email…I guess you might balance on one foot, turn around 3x and pray to the tooth ferry to get your fix.

We politely smile and say, "Oh, OK. Grazi."

"And, the only prob-lemma" she says with a smile, "is that some of the tim-me, it doesn't-a work."

So, that's how they roll in Italia. Internet sometimes if you walk up the hill and borrow it from your neighbor.

I can be down with that.

Almost a week without phones or internet was definitely liberating for all the reasons you can imagine. The thing is, I've always flirted with the idea of no technological strings attaching me to the outside world. A little tech-detox. It just seems everywhere you go has internet. And if cell service is interrupted for a few seconds along the freeway you're nearly pushed to switch carriers. We romanticize the idea of going dark, but there's few places left to actually do it. I could have gone to an internet cafe or hung out in the owner's driveway (as glamorous as that is). But, this was my chance, and I can't say it was life-changing. It was just slower. And, shockingly(!), life moved on without me updating my Facebook status.

We likely missed out on a few things in town to see or do because Mr. Google wasn't constantly churning out ideas and tours. But, we ate unbelievable food. Drank fabulous wine. Soaked in the sunshine. Partied with George Clooney. (And by "with" him, I mean sort of near the vicinity of where he sometimes lives.)

The people in Italy are so warm and hospitable. Not hating on the Parisians, but truly...we were all surprised at how the locals were willing to help us. Give recommendations on what to do. (Take that Mr. Google!) Free coffee and wine. They live well. Eat well. Have a great sense of humor. What more can you ask for?

If you have the chance to go to stay on Lake Como, go. It's beautiful, low key, a quick drive from Milan. The best gelato you've ever had. Need I say more?

(Carolyn, Gillian, me & E'Lane at our last breakfast at Villa d'Esta)

It's back to life in Paris. I'm off to my first day of Superior! Wish me luck!

Learning to fly

I am a big believer in iPod therapy. When you turn on your iPod and all of the sudden a song comes on that perfectly fits the moment. Beyonce when you're going through a break up. Jimmy Buffett when you want to be lying on a beach. And when I left the intermediate practical exam, my iPod's random choice was "Learning to Fly" by Tom Petty. A song I never listen to deliberately, but Tom punctuated the moment exactly: "I'm learning to fly, but I ain't got wings. Coming down is the hardest thing."

Intermediate was overall, umm…not my favorite. I was second in my class in Basic, and then I kind of fizzled. I still did well, but not fantastic. I have always been impatient. I even hate the word "intermediate." Middle. Interim. Waiting. Blah.

I never got into the groove in the kitchen. Nothing was really exciting me. I kind of felt lost and often time just wanted to finish and be done with whatever we were making. In my meeting with the Intermediate chef, I asked the same questions I asked in Basic, what can I do to be better, etc. And then suddenly, I said with a long preamble that I was not trying to be rude at all, "What is the point of Intermediate? It seems like we are doing the same things we did in Basic."

The chef smirked, and replied that we are perfecting what we learned in Basic. We can't just start interpreting the recipes yet, we have to do exactly what they show us in the demo. Everything Chef demonstrates is a technique he wants us to learn and master. Not only techniques, but getting faster and more organized. Not an exciting answer, but it was true. We ain't got wings. I had to refine my skills and keep working to make it to the promise land of Superior.

There are few things I remember learning in high school, but I have never forgotten the  teachers telling us in 10th grade that "sophomore" means "wise fool." Because that's exactly what you are at that stage. One year under your belt and you think you own the place. Then you get knocked down a few pegs and realize you know nothing.

So, maybe I did walk into my sophomore year of culinary school thinking I knew how to work the system. And, maybe the chefs had to knock me down a few pegs. I always think I can run before I walk. I need that kick in the rear every now and then. Coming down is the hardest thing.

Yesterday officially marked the end of Intermediate. The graduation ceremony had poor attendance. Most people are traveling and, I guess, if you went to the Basic graduation and are going to Superior, Intermediate is kind of the poor forgotten middle child. That being said, the few of us that did go had a great time: more champagne to go around and more time to chat with the chefs.

Looking back, I learned a lot in Intermediate. How to prep and clean calamari, butcher a rabbit, make baguettes and developed a serious love for espelette pepper. I made four of the most amazing friends I could have ever asked for when moving across the globe not knowing a sole. Had picnics in the park. My best friends from college came to visit. My mom and I toured Normandy. Countless bottles of champagne and, ohhh, the food.

Wow. I am officially a Superior student. "So, I've started out, for God knows where. I guess I'll know when I get there…" I better learn to fly fast!