Home Again, Home Again

We've been home for two weeks! Everyone keeps asking us if we're happy to be home and if it was easy to transition back to American living; the answer to both is "YES" for Sean and "mostly yes" for me.  I don't miss Rome specifically as much as I miss the pace and style of life that's common in Italy. Sean likes to point out how much more convenient and comfortable our life here is, which is true, but I also look around and see all the ways in which our society encourages, and sometimes even requires, sloth, excess, and wastefulness. Why is every store air-conditioned to the point of discomfort, for example? (Worst offender: Stop & Shop). Why are they lit to freakish brightness and contain 3,000 types of breakfast cereal, which is shitty for you anyway? That's not to say that I'm fetishizing the Italian way of life, which has its own slew of problems. Nor do I plan to be one of those people who go on about how my true home is in Rome or something. That's annoying, no one cares, and most importantly it's not true; Sean and I are in agreement that we could only live in Italy if we had enough money to supply ourselves with the American-level creature comforts, like a dishwasher, air-conditioning, and a good mattress. Since that's super-unlikely, I'm not dreaming of becoming an ex-pat one day. (I've learned to dislike that word: ex-pat is just a euphemism for "wealthy white immigrant we approve of," as opposed to the poor brown ones). We can enjoy what we had for two years in Rome, and make our jokes to each other. Memories of the umbrella pines will have to do for now. 

One important aspect of our Roman life has been translated more or less successfully: coffee! I had previously sampled both Starbucks espresso, which was very bitter, as well as independent place in Branford, which was both bitter and had an after-taste. Sean repeated the experiment and agreed that both sucked. In all likelihood, they don't clean the machines often, which gives coffee a bitter taste (at the Academy, people complained that Monday coffee was more bitter, since Alessandro was known for not cleaning the machine when he closed on Saturday). And it's expensive/wasteful anyway, considering they give you a regular-size paper cup for a single espresso shot. Although I haven't tasted it, Sean's department apparently has some excellent espresso. It's capsule coffee, but his adviser Raffaella is from Turin and wanted the good stuff. They even have actual ceramic Illy cups! Truly, the grad students are living the life.

Since bar coffee is never going to be an affordable or tasty solution, it's up to us to make it at home. I bought Kimbo espresso-ground coffee and a Bialetti moka pot on Amazon, but unfortunately I didn't realize how large a pot I was buying, so we've each been drinking a double every morning. Without the power of an actual espresso machine, you can't get the crema that gives bar espresso its special slightly thicker texture, but the taste is solid, and it does the job! I had stopped ordering it macchiato months ago, so we don't even need to bother with frothing our own milk, which seemed like a pain in the ass whenever I watched someone do it in the common kitchen. One day, perhaps, when we have decent income, we could think about investing in a real machine. In the short term, we need to find some decent cups. Somehow I thought that with all the Italian-Americans around (Linda has a moka pot, for example, though she only uses it to make the decaf espresso Gary drinks after big dinners) I'd be able to find some espresso cups at Goodwill, but I've checked a couple with no result.

Another carry-over from Rome: boxing! We joined the distinctly non-gritty 9Round boxing/kickboxing gym, which offers a different 30-minute workout every day. We do the rounds twice to get a good workout out of it, and it is tough, so that's nice. Sean looked at me once as I was flagging and said (quietly) "Come on, ladeee!" like Leo would have, and I both laughed and worked harder. We're never going to actually learn anything new in terms of technique, though, and obviously never even glove-spar with someone else, which is a bit disappointing. Even though I sucked at it, it was definitely a challenge. But never fear, 9Round offers its own things for me to suck at--like jump rope. Yes, the pastime of 10 year old girls is beyond me. Oy.