I’ll be moving back to the U.S. in July (specifically Massachusetts), which is bittersweet. I mentioned it in passing about a month and a half ago, in Italian. I will very much miss my friends here, and also the vegetables. But I have stuff to do in the states.
In any case, if you have plans to visit me in Italy, June is the remaining month in which to do that (and I am producing a short film that’s shooting at the end of June, so you’ll be drafted if you show up then). After that, if you want to hang out, I suggest Massachusetts in the autumn, when the leaves are pretty. Or you can wait a few years and figure I’m likely to move again, since I tend to do that every few years.
Rodney says: A moving target is the hardest to hit, Romie! Good luck.
Travis says: Tell me more about these vegetables of which you speak.
Romie: As a combination of agricultural subsidies and a climate more suitable to farming than most of the U.S., most of the produce we get comes from very nearby, which means both that it doesn’t need to be picked before it’s ripe and that cultivators can select for flavor rather than durability, or resistance to awful weather. So it just tastes better.
– broccoli romanesco is not actually broccoli but looks like broccoli if it was a fractal and tastes mild and creamy
– montepulciano grapes are tiny and full of seeds but taste just like good red wine, because good wine is made from them
– very good sauce tomatoes are usually available
– along the same lines, the apricots actually taste like something instead of rocks
– there’s this weedy thing called agretto which is pretty hard to describe
I think a lot of the “don’t like vegetables” thing in the U.S. is because our vegetables suck, and either taste sour or like nothing. (U.S. pickles are better, though.)
Travis: Can I tell you how refreshing it is to have a face-value conversation? Ask a question, get an answer. Beautifully explained, btw… I must know more about agretto, but I’ll happily research myself. Been thinking about doing some indoor gardening on account of the harsh Texas sun. You’re just the best.