taking in some music...
13 March 2009
12 March 2009
like a dog...
before I left I thought about a haircut. usually my thoughts about grooming on my birthday trip is that it really doesnt matter what I look like since this really isnt a social trip but last couple of days looking at myself in the mirror, I was starting to resemble a sheepdog, a round headed sheepdog. Now even I have some pride so Ive been keeping my eye out for a barber and while hunting for a restaurant open for a late lunch there it was "barber shop" in english on the window and a man in a black shirt reading the paper.
the most expensive item on the menu was 10 euro and I could go for that. Now rather than explain what I usually get in the worst possible italian and have this guy learn english, I waved my hand around my head and said....short. He responded "corti" and I said..."sure....corti" In a barber shop...what else is he going to say...really...
he put the bib on me and off we went. first he took the scissors to my sides. clipping and banking the scissors against the comb. It reminded me of when I got haircuts as a kid. I still remember the upholstered booster I used to have to sit on....anyway...
After the scissors he pulled the electric clippers. Now these things made a loud buzz every 2 minutes or so and it freaked the barber when it happened. I could tell he was a little off about it, but he fixed it...no shit...with a hair pin. Whatever adjustment he made worked because I lived to tell the tale.
He cut ALOT of hair and as the layers came off the snow white of my hair started to really come in. The last top layer was about 30 percent grey...now im closer to 60 percent.
He was about done but he had to do the finishing touches. Now before I had lasik alll this was just a fuzzy bunch of movements until I paid but now I saw the guy go back to the sink and get his straight razor. NICE! this could be it for your hero...
but where the girl from supercuts asks "straight or round" for the back, a man with a straight razor decides for you, and I have no problem deffering the choice in this situation. 10 euro and I was out of there.
Now, food. As I mentioned the afternoon alot of stuff closes until dinner so I ended up at a sandwich shop with a bakery. I had very nice roast beef sandwich and the hog I am I was sizing up the pastries. I chose a little cake with powered sugar on top and a macciato to go...
I walked down the street to have my dessert in the shade of a church, and you can see the scene in my picture.
I didnt know what was in the cake, if anything, and bit into it to find pineapple. Fuck! I love pineapple. I only had a thimble full of coffee so I had to measure each bit so I could finish the two at the same time.
I must say, the moment was nicely done.
That was about 30 minutes ago.
The internet at my hotel sucks so I stoppped here at an internet bar on a side street in town.
Im working on a few things for the trip. so Ill have more later.
later...
11 March 2009
lunch
After wandering through the city and the Uffizi Gallery all morning I worked off my breakfast and it was getting closer to lunch.
The guidebook had a small paragraph on Florence Beef, a local type of steak unique to this area. I'm all over stuff the locals eat, see or do (within certain defined limits pertaining to my own moral and ethical standards).
Anyway, I wandered a bit more trying to get a good hunger going. I looked at a couple of restaurants yesterday and saw they had Bisteca Florentina by the kilo, which tells me ...that's a big plate of food.
I found a restaurant that has been there since 1913 and went in. It was cool. Full of people and a little loud but I assumed that meant the locals were happy to be there, which is a good sign.
I ordered a homemade pasta with mushrooms and the steak, with a bottle of sparkling water. I opened up my journal and started writing about my day. The waiter, a kid, comes back with instructions from the chef. He says "Dude, the, uh...steak, it's 800 uh....grams....is that ok....we ...we can't you know....cut it down...." now for dramatic effect and to make this clearer for my people from california, the italian waiter did not say "dude" or "you know"...it just helps the story move so bear with me.
I told him it was fine. I was going to have the steak no matter now much it was....then I did the math....actually my calculator did the math. 800 grams in about 1.75 lbs. That's a pretty big steak, and I was having a plate of pasta. I was getting tired just thinking about it.
But before I could ponder the dilemma any further the pasta hit the table. It smelled like sauted mushrooms and olive oil and it was good. "hold on man!" I told myself, "That fucking steak is coming!"
I tried to pace myself but to no avail. The pasta was gone in a few minutes.
For about ten minutes I had to psych myself into a trance to be able to manage this steak which was on it's way.
I kept writing in my book and there it was. On a wooden platter just under two pounds of steak. It didn't look to bad. It smelled really good. It had that charcoaly smell like when you leave the meat on the grill to long and it burns. MMMMM....
I cut away some fat and cut into the meat. It was red in the middle and really juicy. My first bite wasn't that impresssive. It was a steak.
Now the last steak I had was from Black Angus. No offense to the Black Angus corporation and employees. You all do good work but this was better.
At first, I thought "hey, how good could a steak possibly be?" but as I continued the flavor of the grill and the tenderness of the meat I was started to have an expericence. Maybe it was being in a little restaurant in italy while my coworkers were up and down storage tanks but I was bonding with this steak.
I was slowly enjoying every bit. Cutting. Savoring. Repeating. Washing it down with some water and doing it again, until it was gone.
Now I was a different cat than they were used to. I could see they weren't getting one guy eating all that meat and writing and drawing in a book. They were polite but confused. They let me alone until I was done then the manager looked at me as smiled and I'm sure he thought..."wow...what else will this fucker eat?" and he offered me a drink, some coffee and pastry, etc.
I told him I was good and that he did good work, paid my bill and went off under my own power under the afternoon sun.
I feel pretty good. I completely recommend florentine steak by the way, if you're ever in the neighborhood.
more later....
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