My dog Jesse arranges himself in afternoon sunlight while I work. When I try out lines of dialogue, he’ll listen but keeps his counsel. Wherever in the house I give him biscuits, he brings them here to eat on his dining carpet. When I’m too long at writing he sighs and walks away.
Jesse keeps me company
Opi in the wintertime
Here is an image of Opi much as we saw it on our first visit for cross-country skiing. I’m not much of a skier, but walking in the late afternoon in those quiet streets that so quickly become mountain trails, talking to the people and wondering how it would be to live here a century ago, to have no prospects and yet have no other experience of the world, I first began to have an image of Irma and by the time we returned home to Fusaro, near Naples, I knew she was named Irma and began to make the notes that would become first a short story and then When We Were Strangers.
[Image used by permission of http://www.ViaggioinAbruzzo.it]
Making limoncello
At the home of our friend Anamaria outside Naples, my husband Maurizio sharpens the knife to cut off the lemon peel of a mound of lemons for our 2010 batch of limoncello. We begin our batches each year when we visit in the summer, then finish the process back home in Tennessee. We are creatures of habit as regards limoncello and always prepare the lemons in Anamaria’s kitchen. It was on a cross-country skiing vacation with Anamaria and her late husband Ezio, our dear friend, that we first visited Opi, where When We Were Strangers begins.
November soup
Growing up in New Jersey, I noticed that November was not people’s favorite month. Being an anthropomorphizing sort, I felt sorry for November and thought I’d make it my favorite. And it had a certain excitement. There was the smell of coming cold. Winds might howl and dry leaves wheel around in schoolyard corners. Too late for bright fall colors, it was at least too early for slush. Fresh cider was appearing, Thanksgiving was coming and Christmas still all promise. Today I made a perfect November soup – Mediterranean warmth for a cold gray day.
To make November eggplant soup:
2 eggplants, peeled and cubed
1 onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1 can chick peas, drained, dried off
olive oil (about 6T)
salt, pepper
½ to 1 tsp cumin
lemon juice (optional)
1 qt vegetable or chicken broth
yogurt
Spread eggplant, onion and garlic on a baking tray, salt and sprinkle with 4 T olive oil. Bake at 400, for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. About 20 minutes into this, add the drained chickpeas and another 2 T of olive oil. Stir. Stop when the eggplant is cooked but not blackened. Have fun smashing some of the eggplant with a wooden spoon. Add the vegetables to 1 quart of vegetable (or chicken) broth. Add salt and cumin to the pot and a bit of lemon juice if you like. Heat. You can mix some yogurt in the pot or in the bowl. Buon appetito!
Land of round doorknobs
Living in a foreign country has a strange way of reminding you of ridiculous trivia about your own country. Modern Italian doors have handles. I didn’t think much about it until an American I knew said he was going home “to the land of round doorknobs.” When we were anxious in Bulgaria, I saw the round doorknobs and felt better. And on the other hand, even water coolers weren’t any huge part of my life in America, about six months into my new Italian life, I had a sudden, inane craving for that cold metallic taste of water cooler water. Tell me I’m not alone! What little factoids of life in a new country made you feel at home or not at home?
Writing with plastic wrap
Often when I’m creating a new scene, at first I see only dim shapes moving, as if through layers on layers of plastic wrap. Maybe I see three people and guess who they are. I write that down. On the next revision, some layers are gone; the faces are coming into view. Another revision and how, yes, you see what they’re wearing, what’s in their hands, how they move, details of their space, the words they say. In the very last scene of When We Were Strangers, I saw Molly there, just that, and then the color of her dress and finally Irma reaching, despite herself, to study the seams. How do you visualize your revision process? What is your plastic wrap?
Lentil soup recipe
Thick lentil soup (Minestra di lenticchie)
Regional variations of this soup were common in the “cucina povera” or poor people’s cuisine of Abruzzo and it was probably a soup or potage of this sort that Carlo overturned during a fight with his father. In good years or in more wealthy households, the soup might include sausage, but this is a vegetarian version, contributed by Gabriella Maio, the best Abruzzese cook that I know, and a wonderful friend.
Ingredients
2 cups dry lentils
handful of dry chestnuts
1 carrot
1 stalk celery
1 clove garlic
2 bay leaves
¼ C olive oil
Finely chop the carrot, celery, and garlic. Saute’ in oil. Add lentils and chopped dry chestnuts. Add enough water to cover completely and cook over low heat for 30 minutes until soft. Cooking time will depend on the size of the lentils. Buon appetito (and don’t throw the lentils on the floor!)
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