Quirky Thursday

Because I enjoy reading people's "101 Things About Me", but know that I lack the discipline to follow through in compiling 101 things in one post, Quirky Thursday was born.

This way, I can choose to take advantage of revealing one quirky thing about myself when Thursday rolls around. Or not. But this way, an unfinished "101 Things About Me" post won't sit in the "draft" folder for years, waiting for completion.

So here's to celebrating differences, unique opinions and the ability to laugh at ourselves!

Today's quirk?

I like my eggs cooked well done.

I'm talkin' well, well done.

No sunny side ups. No over-mediums. Don't even let me see the yoke running anywhere. A few years ago I saw a poached egg for the first time, and I about died. I'm a huge texture person, so raw oysters, poached eggs and scallops are high on my list of things I would never eat nor want to look at. {shutter}

Dip my bread in yolk? I prefer butter on my bread, thank you.

I love scrambled eggs. I recently started cooking them on medium heat, per Barefoot Contessa, and they come out incredibly fluffy. But they are still cooked long enough to where there is no moisture running anywhere.

I can do fried eggs too. But I usually reserve that order for home only, because I'm far too picky about how I like them cooked. But I'll show you what my perfect fried egg entails.

Turn the stove to med-high heat and wait til it's nice and toasty hot. Crack the egg into the pan and listen to it sizzle. All things that most egg friers do. But here's where it gets tricky. Watch out now.

Immediately mutilate the yolk with spatula, so that there is zero chance of any piece being undercooked:

Sprinkle kosher salt and freshly cracked pepper on . Then flip once it's nice and brown on the underside. And take the spatula and press the life out of the egg like so:

Making sure that no surface of the egg goes untouched. Whip out those OCD tendencies that I know you have. Or maybe that's just me.

Flip again to make sure all slimy-ness is gone from both sides, and both sides are browned to a crisp. Press down just to make sure. 

And voila! The perfect fried egg:

Rome: The Sites

I know I really should give a brief overview of some of the historical sites we were dragged went to.

The Coliseum.

This one was the most interesting to me. Probably because I could visualize what went on here from watching the movie The Gladiator. I cannot fathom watching people kill one another as a sport. And then cheering at the end, when someone's life is taken. I imagine people brought their children there as well? I learned that the "gladiators" were usually criminals, prisoners of war, and some freedmen looking to prove something (and get some cash). That helped a little in understanding some of the crowd's detachment from the gladiators, but I still cannot imagine watching that as entertainment. I have to look away when UFC comes on. So I doubt you'd find me at that Coliseum.

Lebanese Umbrella Trees.

Soldiers marched (w/ their gear and all) in the early morning before the sun came up and in the evening as the sun was going down, to escape the heat. Until one of Rome's kings came up with a grand idea to import these trees from Lebanon to provide shade for the soldiers to march under. Lucky soldiers. With those trees, they were able to march all day long. So it was interesting to see where those trees were planted as we later drove around Rome and envision the poor soldiers marching.

The Wedding Cake.

This monument devoted to modern Italy's first king, stood out to me because of the two statues on either side. They are statues of Nike, the goddess of victory. Apparently the king had had his first (and only) defeat over another country. But it was an a-ha moment for me as I connected the meaning of the athletic brand Nike. Who would have known?

And here are just massive chunks of granite. Um, can I take that home with me for some countertops?

And that's it folks! 

Rome: The Fashion.

Another thing I delight in....fashion!

I think if I could do it all over again, I would have chosen to major in fashion design. Not that I'm any kind of fashion icon, but it is a big interest of mine in limited doses. Maybe not so much that I ever desired to be a real designer, but more because I would love to sew my own clothes. You know, like rip off other people's ideas and then try and do it myself. And girl's clothes would be fun too!

Before I packed for our trip, I googled "what to wear in Rome" and the common theme was: nice pants, ballet flats or retro sneakers, over-the-shoulder purse, and somewhat modest shirt. Showing too much skin could open you up to cat calls. I also read that looking like a tourist could cause you to receive poor service or being exploited.

So off limit items were: running shoes, shorts, flip flops, or jeans.

Well, those four things are pretty much my everyday uniform.

Maybe those blog posts I read about "what to wear" were outdated. Because, I found out it didn't really matter what we wore. Mostly because there were so many tourists, we just blended in. Maybe if we rocked a fanny pack with khaki shorts and socks pulled up to our knees, we would have felt slightly self conscious. But jeans were completely fine. In fact, that's what most of the Romans were wearing. Granted, men and women alike were wearing "skinny" jeans (some men wore jeans tighter than I would even consider squeezing into). I never ventured out in shorts, but I did wear flip flops (with arch support) and didn't feel like I was being stared at.

Anyway, all that to say....if you're going to Rome and wondering what to pack, you're pretty safe to bring what you would normally wear. The only factor is if you plan to visit a church, women's shoulders and knees must be covered.

So here's what we saw in Rome.

A wedding took place one day, and we saw the bride and her father being dropped off:

And we also stopped to watch some of the guests trickle in. It was incredible seeing some of the women walking in platform stilhettos on that cobblestone. It seemed incredibly impractical, yet impressive. 

I guess you might call this Euro Goth. Seemed a tad inappropriate for wedding attire, but entertaining nonetheless:

Another thing I noticed was all of the marketing towards baby and toddler apparell. It was hysterical to see toddler boys running around better dressed than our husbands. (No offense). But really, they were wearing designer-looking jeans with super-trendy Pumas and popped collars. To be honest, it made me exhausted just thinking of all the effort that must go into that. Whoowee. No thanks. I'm lucky if my girls are even wearing shoes when they leave the house.

But the window shopping was fun.

This photo below doesn't do the real thing justice. They were Naiya-size ballet flats. Probably a size 2? I probably would have been tempted to purchase these cuties, but I imagine they were expensive as everything else in Rome. So I didn't even look at the price tag.

So Euro:

So not:

So very Euro:

So very not:

And this? Why, I think it speaks for itself:

To give him credit, he was holding both my cardi and purse as a favor. And I love the confidence with which he posed for this photo opp, knowing full well it would end up on my blog. But I definitely prefer a more rugged man (like my no-frills hubby). I can even appreciate a little bit of effort. But when I feel like my man took more time to get himself together than I did, not such a big fan. 

And that wraps up the Going Euro post!

Rome: The Food.

We are back from our nine day trip to Rome, Italy and Athens, Greece.

We took a trip with our friends, Billy and Heather, leaving our toddlers and babies behind with their grandparents. Ryan's amazing parents agreed to stay at our place, and his mom took off work to be a full-time grandma!

I'm going to share highlights from our trip, from my perspective. So I can assure you this post will not be overflowing with historical sites or museums. Sorry, but my heart for travel lies with food, people and relaxation.

So our trip began with a layover in Geneva, Switzerland. We quickly learned their native language is French. We grabbed a coffee and pastry and enjoyed our freedom to talk and eat without distractions:

Our first night included the most amazing pizza with old friends. We met up with four of Ryan's friends from college (Purdue University) whom are missionaries in Rome. The crust was what made the pizza so fabulous. Each person ordered a (big) personal pizza, and my favorite was the Caprese (fresh buffalo mozzarella, basil and tomatoes). 

Next stop, one of my faves of the whole trip, the market:

We decided to buy groceries to make an authentic Italian dinner one evening. Here's what we picked up:

Grapes: tasted like candy, but they do not have any seedless grapes. 

Tomatoes: Were just as sweet. We brought home cherry tomatoes on the vine and made bruschetta (which we were forced to pronounce "broo-sket-uh").

Didn't try the artichokes, but aren't they beautiful?

And what I had been waiting for....

Cheese. 

So many types of fabulous cheese. We chose a parmesan, pecorino and fresh buffalo mozzarella.

Hello, my love:

And of course we had to try some fresh pasta. Our choice: Fettuccine and pesto:

We also grabbed different varieties of olives, along with some bread and peaches. 

Something noteworthy was the cross-breed of broccoli and cauliflower:

Another experience at the top of my list, as well as a greatly anticipated one: Coffee and pastries. And enjoying them at a small bistro table outside. Every morning persons dream, right? 

I drank the smallest ever cappuccinos while we were there. And I learned the unfortunate fact that Italians don't really drink more than one cup. 

Strike one for Italy. 

By the third sip, totally in heaven, relishing the amazing pastries, and poof! The last sip always snuck up on me so quickly and unexpectedly. I'll admit, I never really got past this small Italian flaw. 

And here's a picture of the breakfast that we got ripped off on. Ryan didn't do the conversion right away, and realized we paid almost close to $20 for this meal. And it was probably one of my least favorite coffees and the pastries tasted stale. It was challenging to know when and where you would get ripped off, especially at the super-touristy places. 

So I pretty much had a chocolate croissant every morning. I'm not a big chocolate lover, so I was surprised to have enjoyed the little bit of sweetness, and as a result, drank my coffee with less sugar. Delicious combo. I think I will think twice about hastily walking past the chocolate croissants at Whole Foods next time. Another perk was the freshly squeezed orange juice. 

Still on the subject of coffee, because it is one of my favorites, here's my absolute favorite coffee shop of the whole trip. 

It was right by the Pantheon, in case you ever go to Rome. We brought home coffee beans from here, as gifts for people and some for ourselves. And I'm already regretting not bringing back more.

So the way you order coffee (or food) was a bit overwhelming, and made me realize why Italians don't order more than one of anything! You had to go to the cashier and wait in line to pay for your coffee first. Then you had to wait in a second line to give your order to the barista. Then wait for your coffee to be made and served. If you ask me, that's too much line waiting.

Here are the beauties that make the world a better place:

Ryan's usual was the Americano (espresso with water; which I read was created and named to accommodate none other than....Americans). My usual was a Cappuccino. I loved the cute little spoons they came with. 

Cheers:

Oh yeah, and seating was hard to find. In fact, very rare in the cafes. There were actually sitting fees at some cafes and restaurants. Me? I rather enjoy sitting down and talking, while drinking my coffee. But no cozy sofas or fireplaces were to be found in Rome.

Here's B&H when we were able to snag a couple seats:

Okay, so on to other bites we grabbed.

I'll give a run down of the ones worth taking pictures of.

One morning we grabbed sandwiches for a brown bag lunch. After touring the Coliseum, we endulged. My sandwich was my favorite. (Of course I had to take a bite and try everyone else's, right?) It was ham and parmesan on focaccia bread. For once I didn't regret my order. I am notorious for being the world's worst orderer.

We stopped at a pizzeria one day, and it was unlike any American pizza joint. Notice the wine cellar and beer going on, on the left side of the pizzeria.

And here was an interesting combo, which I must say made me a little queasy. Eggs and bacon pizza:

But it was redeemed by this beauty:

All that freshness. Love it. I wished I would have tried it.

Instead, I played it safe and went with the tomatoe, pesto and blue cheese pizza with fresh basil on top. Amazing, if I do say so myself.

Ryan and I stopped at this restaurant after a shopping trip down a street lined with department stores called Via del Corso. While the pizza and pasta wasn't the best we'd had there, the dipping sauce for the bread was the best I'd every had. It tasted like the kind I've had here in America, basic balsamic vinegar and oil w/ salt and pepper. But it was a bit thicker, with fresh garlic and grated parmesan cheese. One for the recipe box. 

My favorite pasta dish there was one Heather ordered one evening. We were advised to not trust the restaurants that solicited outside. But this one proved that theory wrong. The dish was spaghetti with lobster. I was one step away from ordering the same thing, but was unsure how fresh the lobster would be. The noodles were such a great texture, much different than any boxed pasta I've ever had. And the sauce must have been cooked with the fresh lobster, because it was so rich and tasty. Heather let us all taste her fabulous choice, and I secretly sulked over my order-fail once again. 

So on to dessert. Ryan's fave. We've been told that Italian gelatto is drastically different than what we have in the States. So very true. 

Unending rows of the creamy goodness:

While they are chincy with their coffee, they are generous with their gelato. A "small" give you three scoops! My fave was pistachio, coconut and hazelnut.

One night, while the others stayed within the gelato routine, I ventured out. Somewhat scary for an order failure like me. But I did it, and it was so very worth it. Let me start off by saying that I am not a huge nutella fan. I'm really not a big chocolate fan. You would be amazed at how many dead stares I have gotten upon disclosing this simple fact. Like I had a third eyeball or something, because I would choose something fruity over chocolate-y. But this one is another one for the recipe box. It was a steaming, hot crepe, that made the nutella spread on it melt into a gooey goodness. With the crunch of roasted hazelnuts. If anything could convert me to the dark side of chocolate lovers, this is it, my friends. 

Okay, and this one could too. This was Heather's birthday cake, Profiteroles (pro-fit-er-oles). A pile of cream puffs, filled with custard and whip cream, and covered with a chocolate sauce. I can get down with cream puffs like you wouldn't believe. I once won second place in a cream puff eating contest. I ate 11 cream puffs in one minute. First place ate 16. But I did beat out two, (over)grown men. 

Seriously, does it get any better than this?:

And last, and most boring: Water. There was fresh drinking water all throughout the city.

Although, Heather would argue it wasn't so fresh. She was quite sick while in Rome, not realizing until later it was always after guzzling down the city water. The rest of us escaped the same results though. 

Alright folks, this concludes the Rome food journal.

Mangia bene!