Sunday, April 12, 2009. Buona Pasqua. It’s another sunny day. We plan to relax in our apartment and rest our aching calves, knees, shins, etc. Ascoli was not as much up and down as was Perugia, but still…. As Figlia has noted, Italy is a big collection of steps up an down, but mostly up it seems.
Stone and Jake head out to a place we noticed that sells roasted chicken and had had a sign in their window yesterday that said they would be open Easter morning until noon. Business is booming at Dora, at little place by Penne's main medieval portal. It seems most of the town is coming in to pick up their Easter orders. We notice that it is mostly pasta that is headed out the door -- at about ten pounds a minute! Stone’s Italian is needed to order our chicken. As we wait, we see several ladies in the back room making pasta. Over a long marble table one woman is producing ravioli with an artistic flourish. Stone asks if we might order some. Sure. We get enough for three people.
(We walk back through the main piazza. There are 31 people in the piazza (Jake counted), standing here and there in small groups. Of the 31 only one is a woman, and she stands to the side of one of the groups. And while we are inside these parentheses, it is interesting to note that while Pescara had untold Smart cars zipping about, here in Penne we have not spotted even one. What one sees in Penne but not in Pescara is a vehicle that is sort of a Smart Car for farmers, a sort of motorcycle/truck: the front half is a motorcycle, or actually more like a scooter, that is enclosed, while the back half is a small flatbed good for hauling a few bushels of vegetables, or the like. Very economical in both cases.)
Back in our apartment Stone fixes a wonderful Easter lunch, with the chicken and ravs as the center pieces. We all agreed that the ravioli, with a filling of cheese that was simply heavenly, was the best we ever had. A few glasses of Montepulciano d’Abruzzo and we are all in need of an after feast nap.
For dinner we look all over town for an open restaurant, but without luck. As a last ditch effort we try a “bar” about 10 minutes from our place and they are open, but there seems to be no food available except the always available pastries. But Figlia says something to the apparent owner and we are told he can whip up some plain “grandi panini if we don't mind waiting.” Oh yes. We sit down to a nice little repast of pork panini, Coke Light and Nastro Azzurro beer. And then there are those pastries. Would be a shame to leave without some. Especially after they were so nice to care of us. We load up, being sure to get Figlia’s favorite, “pears,” which is a pastry that looks remarkably like the fruit. Oh, those clever Italians.
On the way home it starts to rain, and then gets rather heavy as we just make it to our doorway. Jake is able to find the Masters again on the TV, though the satellite reception goes in and out, due perhaps to the weather. Finally the TV loses the Masters feed entirely, but with only two holes to go Jake is sure Kenny Perry will win and become the oldest man to wear the Masters green jacket. With the rain continuing it proves to be a great night for sleeping.
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