Thanksgiving in Italy

The day started just like any other traditional Thanksgiving:  I woke up and looked out the window at the Italian countryside.  Ok, maybe it was not so traditional - but we were certainly prepared to make the holiday as authentic as it can be in the middle of Italy.  

A few of us went to the local grocery store in the morning to search for all the items we would need for the foods that we would be eating if we were at home.  Surprisingly, most things were easy enough to find.  One surprising exception was bread, which all seemed to have a crusty exterior that doesn't quite work for stuffing.  Of course, the most important item for the day (wine) was in plentiful supply. 

Brian and his aunt were well prepared for the lack of turkeys in Italian butcher shops, so they ordered one in advance.  To my surprise, we ended up with a fresh one (so fresh, in fact, that it still had some feathers attached)!   

The centerpiece of our Thanksgiving dinner.

Nick also predicted difficulty in finding cranberries, so he brought a bag all the way from the US.  He was talking about how Massachusetts is a huge provider of the world's cranberry stock, so I did some research and  learned some interesting random facts about the cranberry:
-  It is one of only 3 commerically-grown fruits native to North America. 
- It is Massachusetts' #1 agricultural commodity crop and Massachusetts is home to 40% of all cranberry growers in North America.  (Who knew there was agriculture in Massachusetts?!)

Shortly after returning to the villa with groceries, the cooking activities had begun and the first bottle of wine was uncorked.  I am not much of a chef (I haven't even cooked a meal for myself since August), so I just took the role of prep and support.   

By mid-afternoon, Brian had suggested a hike in the hills around the villa, which was the perfect activity for me.  We hadn't done any physical activity since the marathon (4 days ago), so it felt nice to get outside and actually stretch out my leg muscles a bit.  Our task for the hike was to come back with a "table-scape" (too much influence from the Food Network), so we grabbed some leaves and twigs on the way back.    

Views from our hike

Doing some activity for the first time in 4 days.

Vineyards (post-harvest)

Throughout the afternoon, our kitchen was remarkably efficient.  Emily and Nick took the roles of head chefs and the rest of us stayed busy with various tasks and, of course, more wine drinking.  

Nick and Jason slice apples for the pie

Brian sautees leeks for something (gravy? stuffing?)

Paul prepares some sausage stuffing.

Emily prepares the brussels sprouts

Brian and Paul test the mashed potatoes. 

There was also a lot of hanging around with wine. 

Our Italian neighbors arrived just as the food was finishing and it was finally time to sit down and see if our cooking was up to standards.  It's hard to know whether Italians would enjoy traditional American dishes but I think the flavors are universal enough to appeal to almost anyone.  With a toast of champagne, it was time to dig in.  

Toasting to start the Thanksgiving Dinner

I was pleased to see the Italians not only filling their plates for one course but actually returning to the buffet for second helpings.  They obviously understand how to eat like Americans on this holiday.  

Here's a picture of the entire group at the table

After we finished eating, we even taught the Italians about breaking the wishbone.  The only tradition that seemed to be missing was an American football game, but I guess I can forgive Italian tv coverage for not offering this as an option.

2013 marked the fourth time I have been out of the country for Thanksgiving and, of all four years, it definitely felt the most like being at home.  (Last year in Istanbul, the only thing that reminded me of Thanksgiving was the fact that we were in Turkey).  This year, reminders of home were just what I needed and I'm thankful to my friends for making it happen.  

San Gimignano and Siena

On Tuesday morning, our group split up. 

The early car went wine tasting, while the late car (which I was in) started the day at San Gimignano.  Driving from our villa in Greve was an adventure in itself because the roads are extremely windy and hilly.  I'm glad I was in the front seat or I would have been carsick after the first ten minutes.  On the bright side, views of the Tuscan countryside were gorgeous.  

One aspect I find amusing about driving in Italy is the sheer number of signs at every intersection.  I'm not sure who thought that a multitude of signs would be helpful, but the law of diminishing returns would certainly apply in this situation.  How can anyone read all this while driving?!?

Vast amounts of information at each turn

I attempted to be the co-pilot (aka: sign reader) from the front seat, while Brian consulted the map on his phone.  It turns out, I'm a completely useless co-pilot in Italy.  Sometimes, the highway we wanted wasn't listed at all, while other times, the sign was pointing in a different direction than what Brian's map suggested.  We decided that this must be be Italy's way of messing with tourists, so Brian's map always prevailed.  

Both directions lead to Siena!

Eventually, we saw the beautiful towers of San Gimignano in the distance and I started getting excited (mostly, just so I could get out of the car).  We parked outside the walls of the town and ventured in.  Without cars, billboards, or traffic lights, it was really easy to imagine ourselves in another century.  We meandered our way through the cobblestone streets and into the main square, where we noticed a well that the residents must have actually used as a source of water back in the day.

Entering San Gimignano

San Gimignano town center

Nick also noticed a condom vending machine on the wall of a building, which must have been installed in a later century. :)

It really added to the ambience. 

I can't imagine many young people living in the town these days, simply because there is nothing to do there.  It is obvious that the economy is driven by tourism, but we were lucky enough to have the place to ourselves.  The whole town looked like a postcard and it seemed like every shop sold meat, cheese, and wine.  Seriously, do Italians do anything besides eat?  

Based on the suggestion of a saleswoman in one of the specialty food shops, we stopped for lunch at a really cute restaurant.  The owner explained all of the day's specials with so much passion and we even had the added bonus of focaccia bread, which was such a nice change from the typical salt-less breads that most restaurants in Tuscany provide.  I never realized how much I appreciate salt in my bread before this vacation! 

San Gimignano is most famous for its towers, which were built in the 13th century as a result of family rivalries.  Most towers are closed to the public today, but we did find one that allowed us to climb.  The view from the top was incredible and it provided such a great perspective over the town.  

Here's the tower we were able to climb - right next to the church. 

Almost at the top!

Views of the tuscan countryside from the tower

Looking down on the town square.

After a great morning in San Gimignano, we decided it was time to venture over to Siena, where we met up with the other half of the group.  I was particularly excited about seeing Siena because it was so beloved by my Aunt & Uncle during their honeymoon that they decided to name my cousin after the city.  

Siena only allows residents to drive in the center city, so we parked in a nearby lot and took a series of escalators up to the Duomo.  I must admit that although I enjoyed the ease of the escalators, it didn't get me in the "medieval mood" like I felt as we passed through the walls of San Gimignano. 

As is the case with most Italian cities, the Duomo is the must-see landmark.  Before we could enter, we had to get a free ticket from a nearby ticket office.  It seemed strange to me that they would hire someone just to print and distribute free tickets, but it's Italy so I didn't question anything!  

As we waited to pick up the tickets, we could see an outer wall that still stands as a reminder of a partially-completed addition from the 14th century, which would have doubled the size of the cathedral.  The Black Plague permanently halted the construction, but it's cool to imagine how massive the structure would have been if it were completed.  Personally, I think its current "small" size is just right.

Here's the exterior of the beautiful Siena Cathedral

This cathedral is the most unique I have seen in Italy, with alternating black & white horizontal stripes across the walls that reminded me of Sephora.  I learned that black and white are the symbolic colors of Siena, representing the black and white horses that belonged to the city's founders.   

I was digging the black & white stripes.  

I know the pictures may look like any other beautiful church in Italy, but to appreciate the detail of the craftsmanship requires a closer look: 

Details, details. 

Even the mosaic floor was designed with incredible detail.  Although most of it was covered to protect the marble, one part depicting "The Slaughter of the Innocents" was exposed and provided a hint of the ornate images throughout the floor.  

Here's the small piece of the floor that was exposed. 

After visiting so many cathedrals, it would be easy to not appreciate the breathtaking design of the architecture.  This cathedral, however, forced me to take notice.  

We then walked to the Piazza del Campo to meet the rest of the group.  I would have loved to be in Siena during famous horse races, but unfortunately, it was a quiet night.  We walked around a little more, took a group picture, and returned to Greve for dinner. 

Our group, together again, in Piazza del Campo, Siena

People often say that there is a rivalry between Florence and Siena. My guess is that the rivalry exists more among residents because, as a tourist, I found the two cities to be completely different.  I think that there is a lot more to do and see in Florence, while Siena is more enchanting in a subtle way.  Both cities are absolutely worth seeing but very difficult to compare.  

Florence Marathon

Another marathon is in the books!  

Nick and I were the first to arrive in Florence on Saturday morning, so we were responsible for picking up everyone's race packets.  We easily found each other at the main station, dropped off our luggage, and made our way to the expo.  As I started seeing signs for the marathon, it finally hit me: I will be running 26.2 miles tomorrow morning.  My "training" for the past seven months has consisted of 8-10km on a treadmill most mornings, with only a couple half-marathons thrown in for good measure.  I feel completely underprepared.      

The expo was arranged in a way that required us all to weave through the maze of booths before we could pick up our numbers.  There's no better way to psych myself up for a race than to pass countless booths for all the other marathons in Europe that I would like to run (the idea of running marathons is a lot more exciting than the actual process of running them).  In true Italian style, the maze hit a dead end and required everyone to do a u-turn and push through the crowds in order to go out the same way we came in.   
  
We decided that carb-loading was in order, so we stopped for pizza near the city center.  Wine was so inexpensive that we had no choice but to "hydrate" with a half-liter each.  I was nervous about food in Italy since I don't eat tomato sauce, but the waitress was completely unfazed by my request for a white pizza.   

By around 6pm, everyone else had arrived and we were en route to our villa in the countryside that we had rented for the week from Brian's aunt, who also generously offered to cook us all dinner.  The food was great and the wine was relaxing.  Yes, that's right - both meals on the day before the race involved wine. 

Pre-race dinner (with wine!)

The remaining hours before the race felt like a whirlwind:

...Sleep.  

...Wake up.  

...Shower (strike that. No hot water.  It's ok, I'm going to smell gross in a few hours anyhow).  

...Back in the car for our journey to Florence.  

...No parking near the starting line, so Brian's aunt took us up a giant hill, which had great views of the city but the impending hike after the race scared me a little.  

...Group picture time!  Yay, T-45 minutes until the race (getting a little nervous).  

Less than 1 hour before the start!

On our way to the gear check (or "cloakroom", as the Italians would say), the crowds started getting crazy and we were literally stuck in a crowd of people.  The minutes were counting down and everyone was just pushing each other to get anywhere.  Eventually, I broke through and rushed to get rid of my bag.   

What's with all the people?!? I need my space!!

I managed to squeeze my way into the starting corral with a few minutes to spare, but it was so crowded that I couldn't even stretch at all.  This was by far the most hectic race start I have ever experienced and the first few miles would have to be my stretch/warm-up period.  

Once the starting gun went off, I instantly felt more calm.  The crowd thinned out, the weather was ideal for running (we got lucky), and my legs were feeling fresh.  Around the 10k mark, I remember seeing some pacers in front of me, with their balloons bopping around in the air.  I had to look twice for it to register that I was running with the 3-hour pace group.  This was much faster than I was planning and I knew that it wouldn't be sustainable considering my lack of training.  Unfortunately, it's not so easy to just slow down in the middle of a race, so I reluctantly decided to keep going until my body decides that it has run long enough.  

We crossed the half-marathon point at exactly 90 minutes and I still felt good, but I knew that my body would break down at some point as I venture into the 18+ mile mark.  Sure enough, I started getting side cramps around the 30km point, which forced me to walk for a bit.  

For me, walking during a marathon is like breaking the seal at a bar.  Once you start, it becomes a lot more frequent.  Sure enough, my pace became a lot slower and random parts of my body started hurting.  I wish I was better at training for long-distance races but it's just so boring - especially since I am usually bound to treadmill running in most of my hotels.  

After the 30km mark, I started looking forward to each water stop for some much needed refreshment.  Florence offered some unique alternatives to the standard options, including tea (sometimes hot, sometimes luke-warm), salt water (which I never tried but was told tasted like a flavorless gatorade), wet sponge (common in European races, but not in the US), and italian biscotti.  That's right, Biscotti.  Nick snapped a picture of a well-dressed volunteer, offering some Italian pastries to the runners.  Between the biscotti and the high heels, this woman enlivens the best Italian stereotypes!

I'm obsessed with this woman. 

By the end of the race, my body was literally falling apart.  I had stopped to walk multiple times and everything was starting to hurt.  Somehow, I still managed to pull out a respectable 3:11 finish time but it was not easy.  After the race, I shuffled my way back to the cloak room and returned to the finish line to watch more runners come in.  The finish line was in front of the Basilica of Santa Croce, which was such a picturesque setting.  

Finish line of the Firenze Marathon

Once everyone in our group had finished, we meandered our way back up to the cars (very slowly) and shared our favorite moments from the morning.  Mine was running past the duomo because it just appeared out of nowhere and is always such an awe-inspiring sight.  I love running in Europe because the courses are always so scenic and this race certainly was no exception.  

I often wonder why I voluntarily put my body through the torture of running full marathons, but the feeling of achievement always seems to last longer than the soreness in my muscles.  The Florence marathon will remain particularly memorable because I got to experience it with five of my friends.  Now that the hard work is over, we can celebrate with a week in Tuscany.  

Florence Marathon medal 2013