"Where the sun don't shine" and other phrases that don't apply in Europe

I bought a purple frying pan at the open air market.  No miming was involved.  The ensuing eggs and bacon have been delicious.

You’re not completely settled into a new country until your bowels are settled.  I’m not aiming to get crass here to obtain a cheap laugh; it’s just the damn truth.  You can be sleeping peacefully, eating at the right times, exercising daily, and otherwise feel completely normal, but until those bowel movements are settled into a natural rhythm, you’re going to feel like a stranger in a strange land. 

Most shops in our current little village carry homemade bread in paper sacks, homemade wine in reused plastic water bottles, and homemade vinegar in similar recycled-looking bottles.  Today I was on a mission to find some olive oil, and I got it in my head that I’d find sketchy-looking-to-an-American-yet-undeniably-alluring homemade olive oil in equally reused-looking bottles stacked in a dim corner of a small shop.  I have no doubt that such items do indeed exist, however, in the first shop that I tried, they did not.  Upon my broken-Italian inquiry, the helpful English-speaking shopkeeper presented me with a commercially labeled bottle of olive oil, similar in appearance to something I would buy in the US.  I thanked him, but said I was looking for homemade olive oil, and I gestured toward the heaps of rustic bread and wine that in the US would be described as “bootleg.”  As I began to turn away, the gears in my head slowly realized that all the olive oil I bought in the US was imported from Italy.  I’m in Italy.  All of the olive oil that I find, if not homemade, is going to be local, in some sense at least.  As if the shopkeeper could read this epiphany forming in my head, he again presented the bottle of olive oil to me and pointed out on the label that it is made in the next village over, literally 2 miles away.  I bought it.  It is delicious.

First-hand Sicilian cooking tip:  When preparing eggplant, slice it, salt it, and let it sit in a colander for about 30-45 minutes.  Then rinse and dry with a paper towel before cooking.  This takes away some of the bitterness and helps prevent mushy eggplant.

First-hand Sicilian open-air market shopping tips:  1) When trying on shoes made in Asia, go up one size.  2) Italian-made clothing is better quality [than Asian] and therefore is worth paying a little more.  3)  Always be sure to wash clothes bought at the market before wearing them.

While walking back toward the hotel today after picking up the aforementioned olive oil and some produce, I ran into a friend who works at the hotel.  He and I ducked into a café for a quick espresso and he got to talking to the 80-year-old man behind the counter (literally - he’s 80. He told us).  The sprite old man tapped my lettuce and said that he would bring me better lettuce from his garden.  And that he would bring my friend and I some eggs from his chickens.  I had never met this man before, nor had my friend, and their conversation lasted no more than five minutes.  That’s just how it is.  The gentleman insisted that my friend and I be back at his café around the same time day after tomorrow.  At this point, it doesn’t even matter if the man remembers the eggs and lettuce or not.  My friend and I will go back for another espresso and, holding no expectations, will no doubt another lovely conversation with the warm old man.

Please forgive today’s scattered entry.  It seems my concentration is directly linked to my intestines, and alas I am still but a stranger in a strange land.  Until next time – arrivederci.  And remember to use plenty of sun block.