Let's Stay in Florence

Deanna and I made this decision after much deliberation.

Barcelona, or Florence?

Everyone said we should go to Barcelona. It was one of the places I wanted to go for sure during my travels. But my wallet was aching, I didn't feel like scrounging for food, and there was SO much to do here in Florence. And time was running short!

So, we decided to stay. And I'm glad we did! What a fantastic weekend.

The 'weekend' officially began on Wednesday night, after my night class. I got out early due to the fact that it was a presentation night, so after presenting (the teacher complimented my work), we were released. I went to Deanna's, where we killed time on Pinterest and watching Friends before meeting with Sammi and her dad for dinner.

He had just arrived in town that day, and kindly took Deanna, Sammi, Bridgette, Jackie, Ginelle, and I to a lovely dinner at All'Antico Ristoro di'Cambi.

After meeting her father (a truly genuine and kindhearted man--he was amazing, was wonderful to talk to, and made me laugh so much!), we all walked through the rain to the restaurant, which was on the other side of the Arno. Along the way, we struggled for sidewalk room as the marathon runners ran by (as was customary on Wednesday nights in Florence). Finally, we arrived at the restaurant.

It was a truly Italian experience, as we were the only Americans there. My heart sank a little as Sammi announced that the dinner would be family-style, but before I could even ponder what I would do, she leaned over and assured me that her father was aware of my situation and wanted me to get whatever I wanted just for myself.

We started with a cheese and prosciutto platter that I could enjoy with them. Then, their pastas arrived, and I requested that the waitress bring me a side dish of roasted potatoes (she smiled, as the potatoes aren't customarily served with the primi, but she understood my reasoning). Then came the bistecca alla fiorentina.

It was the rarest hunk of steak I have ever seen in my life. They brought it to us rare on a platter to get our approval, then brought it out moments later with charred edges, salt and pepper, and blood flowing from the juicy, tender center. I've never eaten meat that rare before, but I loved it (not as good as my dad's prime rib, though, I must say!).

During the meal, we were entertained by the group sitting at the booth across from us. There was a cranky woman who clearly disapproved of our American presence, her husband, their spoiled terrier (who had a napkin around his neck, a plate of his own, and enjoyed bread and an appetizer), and Daniel. Daniel was the old drunk man who fell in love with me during the course of the evening, coming to our table frequently to list more reasons why he loved me.

When a piece of prosciutto fell on the floor, I brought it to the terrier, asking the couple if he could eat it (he had eaten basically everything else in the restaurant!). The man smiled and said yes, but the moment I began feeding it to him, the man realized it was prosciutto and screamed, "No! No! It's too salty for him! It's bad for his diet!" So I'm digging my fingers in this dog's throat, pulling out prosciutto, as an Italian man yelled and my friends cracked up.

Daniel came over and sat beside me, much to the concern of Sammi's dad, and began telling me about his castle, his "sexy" dog, and the big blue diamond he would give me if I married him. "Shit," he said, "We will be in freaking love." He told me I could have all the food I ever wanted, I could travel, etc. He serenaded Sammi's dad, thinking we were all his children. He called him "Superman," congratulated him on his hard work, and inquired if we were Mormons.

I was the one to be serenaded next. He started singing, and I knew the song so I joined in, making him fall in love with me even faster, apparently. He told me he loved me because I didn't talk much (Deanna stifled a laugh), and he said I cut my steak like a lady; like a piano player. He then gave me his business card and told me to call him, which is how I discovered he is a photographer and journalist for Gucci. He also is a painter, and spent significant time in the Dakotas (his family is all Italian but many live in America) creating paintings of Native American tribes.

At the conclusion of the meal, he took a selfie with me, and gave me a bottle of wine from Vernazzano (the winery I actually toured a few weeks ago). On it, he wrote a note...something along the lines of me being the material dreams are made of. Even if I understood Italian, I don't believe I would be able to decipher his words. Finally, his friend came to rescue us, pulling away his friend and apologizing for his drunken behavior.

After dinner, we walked down to a gelato shop that was one of the most well-liked in Florence. I remembered vaguely going into the shop earlier in the semester and either being told I could not eat there or feeling that it was not safe for some reason or another. I walked in fully anticipating walking out empty handed.

Instead, the woman smiled, told me which flavors were off-limits (only 2), and grabbed a special red spoon (my favorite thing in gelato shops!).

It was the best gelato of my life. Panna cotta and crema and oh so delicious.

The next morning, Deanna and I met Sammi and her father in line at the Duomo, where I gave them a private tour. They absolutely loved it and complimented my tour guide skills. Afterwards, they went for some father-daughter time at the Galleria Accademia, but insisted we join them for lunch. I could not comprehend him paying for another meal for us, but we reluctantly agreed (Sammi and her father are VERY persistent and stubborn people).

Deanna and I killed time before lunch by going into a toy shop (there was an adorable boxer inside looking excitedly at toys; I imagined they were for her puppies). We then walked around the city for a bit, returned to my apartment for an episode of Friends, and met with Sammi and her father, who announced we were going to the first floor of the Mercato Centrale for lunch.

I have never been able to eat at the Mercato Centrale. It is a very popular place for locals and students alike, with lines of specialty bars with meats, pastas, breads, pizzas, soups, etc. However, everything is contaminated. Everything.

One place finally convinced me enough, and I reluctantly got a sausage plate while the others did a family-style lunch. We all shared wine, and I loved it. The sausage was delicious, and I felt no repercussions! Afterwards, Sammi got a plate of raw oysters, and I had one as well. Then, he offered to buy us gelato. I had heard that the gelato in the market was among the best in Florence, but could not recall seeing it listed as "senza glutine." However, after inquiring, it was indeed gluten free! Panna cotta and vanilla and oh-so-delicious. Gelato #2.

After lunch, we headed towards the Florence Handcraft Festival at Fortezza de Basso. Unbeknownst to us, there was an entrance fee, which her father once again paid stubbornly. Inside, there were buildings stuffed with rows of pottery, tables, handcrafted jewelry, shawls, ornaments, toys, and everything in between. The buildings opened up to a lovely piazza with stands and more and more buildings, and we soon realized it was an endless mass of crafts.

My favorite building was the food building. I went in with the expectation that I would not be able to taste anything. WRONG. The very first stop on the long list of booths serving regional products was a bakery from Siena, and 3 of the 5 samples were gluten free. Then came the olives, jams, dates (yuk!), sausage, dried fruit, and garlic samples. I saw another dessert booth and thought, "If only they were gluten free." I then recognized the orange logo, and yelled, "Starbene!" It was my favorite bakery, Starbene Senza Glutine. Even though I was stuffed, I caved and went to buy myself a typical rice pudding tartlet. However, while I was grabbing my money, Samantha's father apparently paid the cashier. I was angry, but became less angry when he let me share the pastry with him.

We then had samples of wine, sangria, and much more food. We looked at more crafts until it was time for Deanna and I to return to the city center for our last Rubaconte dinner with the Society of St. Thomas More.

I brought Sara and Adrian to the dinner, and enjoyed a penne with a red sauce (they were out of the vodka sauce). After several more glasses of wine and limoncello (compliment of the priest), we departed for the piazzas of Florence, as it was Notte Bianca, the night where Florence didn't sleep.

We listened to some jazz music in one of the squares, walked around a bit, then decided to go to Santa Maria Novella, as the church was open tonight to tourists free-of-charge. Adrian and Sara, being art students, told me all about the features of the church and the artwork. It was breathtaking to be in there so late at night (it was around 11:00 at this point), while the rest of the town was drinking and partying and singing. In one of the chapels, the large crucifix over the altar was darkened and lost in the night, so all you could see was Jesus with his arms outstretched. He appeared to be floating, like an angel. It took my breath away in that first instance to see my angel sent from God floating there in the darkness.

After the church, we wandered through a few more piazzas, listening to the live music along the way. We walked to San Lorenzo, and, lo and behold, Sem was there. He had left the bar after a spat with his father and had disappeared for a few weeks. Deanna and I no longer frequented our favorite Cafe (as I say, "we grew up").

We crossed the river and headed to a gelato shop Adrian recommended. I couldn't get any "senza glutine," but didn't mind too much because as we were walking afterwards I found the cotton candy man. I got my first ever strawberry cotton candy!

Afterwards, we returned to Adrian's apartment to drop her off and take a water break. Then, we all parted ways and went in for the evening before the rest of the city became unruly.

The next morning, Deanna and I met downtown to do some souvenir shopping, check out an antique market, and get her hair done. I packed a lunch for myself, as we were planning on eating in one of the piazzas. As soon we arrived at our destination, I was overcome by the worst stomach pains of my life thus far. I was almost crying/fainting/dry heaving as I made my way all the way back to my apartment (the most painful 20-minute walk of my life). I prayed that the pain would subside, and it finally did. However, my plans for the day were moot, as I then took a 5 hour nap. I woke up that night, feeling a bit better, and Deanna came over to do homework and watch Friends.

Apparently, the issue was caused by the consumption of non-lactose free yogurt. I guess my body can handle gelato but still can't do yogurt due to the intestinal damage. At least it's not gelato...

The next day was "Round 2." Deanna got her hair done as I took myself to Santa Croce (free compliments of my Ars et Firenze card). I saw the tombs of Dante, Michelangelo, Galileo, Machiavelli, and more). I took my time wandering through the chapels and museum areas, soaking in the grandeur of the cathedral and the history and art that surrounded me.

Deanna and I met up and went through several shops, then headed to Santo Spirito to eat fruit on the steps of the church overlooking the piazza. There was a flea market going on, and I bought an Italian sundress appropriate for work.

I then went to all the restaurants I had scouted in the area, asking if they served anything gluten free. These were restaurants on my bucket list, but unfortunately all but one had accommodations.

We then headed to the antique market in Piazza Compi. I bought Juli's something old and blue, got Dominic an antique leather-bound book of Roman Catholic prayers (in Italian, of course), and Deanna and I bought Sammi's dad an Italian Bible to thank him for his kindness. We could not believe how many meals he had bought us!

On the way to Mass, we stopped at the 99 cent store and bought him a card. All they had were birthday cards, so we got him the corniest one we could find.

We met with them at Mass. It was the last English Mass I will be able to attend in the Duomo, and Don Mario was on point. He talked of temptation and being the branches off the vine of Christ. I smiled as he made his announcement that he would be doing confession in confessional 12; that first night I went, it was because of that statement that I gathered the courage to join St. Thomas More, ask about confession, and met Sammi.

Mr. Noonan almost teared up when we gave him his gift. It was the least we could do, but he truly appreciated it. Even though I had homework to do, I accepted his invitation to join them for drinks. Sammi, Deanna, Jackie, and I headed out with him to anyplace we could think of.

I suggested Viktoria Lounge, which our tour guide, Christian, from the horseback riding tour suggested. We went, and I ordered a berry mojito. While they were preparing our drinks, I went to the nearby Conad and bought a bag of my favorite gluten free frollini to share with everyone.

We sat and ate cookies, and our cocktails arrived. Mine looked beautiful; it was like a jungle in a cup. Fresh berries of every kind, mint, and goodness. It turns out we were there during aperitivo hours, so we received complimentary food as well. They told me the rice was gluten free, and that was all I needed to go up and get 4 plates of it. Sammi's dad was surprised by my food intake, but I wasn't even ashamed. I would have gotten more if we didn't get smoked out of the street by a nearby fire. I, of course, saved the rice, and carried my rice plate and bag of gluten free cookies through the smoke-filled streets as everyone else ran for safety.

We retreated into the apartment Sammi and her dad had rented for the week. It was absolutely charming; it was on top of a building overlooking Santa Croce. We sat and had wine in the living room, which looked like it could have been a rooftop terrace, and talked about life, grace, Catholicism, forgiveness, and networking. It turns out Sammi's dad, a very high-profile businessman, knows everyone in the book. He gave us great advice on getting to know people, developing a Linked In account, and recommended that "If there is something you want, write it down and tell people about it. That's how you get it accomplished."

We shared our dreams of opening gluten free bistros, being an actress, etc. Then, it was time for dinner. It was no surprise at this point that they invited us to come along.

The place they had planned on going to was full and they had not made reservations, so we headed to the same restaurant as the first night. Another bistecca alla fiorentina. Just as good as the first! Then, the same gelato place. I was not going to complain about another panna cotta and crema! Gelato #3.

Sammi invited Deanna and I to brunch the next day, so the next morning we found ourselves in the charming La Vespa. I ordered a lovely brunch served with avocados, black beans, potatoes, and eggs on a corn tortilla. Deanna and I then went to Superfox for a much-needed homework session with delicious almond tea.

A few hours later, we met Sammi, her dad, and Bridgette for a hike up to Piazzale Michelangelio for the Gelato Festival. After arriving there and meeting with Jackie, I was dismayed to find out that all the gelato was contaminated. Everyone got their Gelato Card which gave 5 free samples (which actually meant 5 heaping cups of gelato). There were the most interesting gourmet flavors there (including the first ever gelato flavor and the brand new Nutella gelato), and everyone tried one that they said was their favorite in all their life. I was sad as they all had leftover samples, thinking to myself, "If I had 5 free gelatos, I would eat ALL of them!"

I realized that I am a glutton. I love eating. And I love food. SOOOOOO much.

However, they gave all the free samples to a young family, and the look on their face when they got the free samples made my day.

We then climbed back down, where we had to say goodbye to Sammi and her dad. Her dad had taken quite a liking to all of us, and said he was surprised I wasn't already an actress with my comedic timing. We thanked him again and again for the wonderful weekend. He tried to treat me to a gluten free gelato, but I politely declined, as I was to take Laura out for a congratulatory gelato later that evening (her artwork was selected to be displayed at Art in the Square next weekend).

The rest of the evening was gelato #4 (Peanut Butter and Crema) and homework.

It was an absolutely fabulous weekend full of wonderful memories! While I missed Barcelona, I couldn't have asked for a better weekend in my new home.