This was the interior dining room at the Hotel Santa Caterina. We ate breakfast here only once, when a light rain was falling.
Italian lunchtimes proved difficult for us. Jet lag meant we weren’t hungry until 3 pm or so, and by then, everything was closed. So we spent most afternoons wandering around in a fog of hanger, snapping at each other until we found a gelateria to hold us off until dinner. It wasn’t our finest travel…
I suppose I should have warned Rand. Honestly, though, I thought he knew. That is why I didn’t lean over and whisper, “Pace yourself. There are four more courses to go.” I mean, why else are they called primi and secondi? They are referring to courses. What they don’t really mention in Italian restaurants…
The first time I saw this thing outside my dad’s house, I sort of snickered. – I remember staring at it, thinking, “Good heavens, that’s just awful. Whatever it is.” And then I pretty much ignored it, except to cast a sideways glance in its direction every time I passed. Now I realize, like nearly…
Things never seem to turn out how I imagine they will. I don’t know if it’s because my expectations are too lofty, or if they aren’t lofty enough. But on some trips, things don’t quite fall into place. Nothing is how I envisioned it to be. Later, I scroll through my photos and find that…
My apologies for the quality of images in this post. Many of them were taken with my cell phone, because I was too busy eating to be bothered with my SLR. I have been told on more than one occasion that I am not unlike a hobbit. I’ve always figured this was less to…
I have never believed in love at first sight, or the epicurial equivalent of it (love at first bite?) My brain just doesn’t work that way – it likes to take its sweet time in deciding how it feels about something. Rand and I dated for years before I realized exactly how much I liked…
– Someone recently told me that I need to start “lifestyle blogging” instead of just travel blogging, which sort of confused me, because my everyday life isn’t necessarily something you’d want to emulate. Most days, I’m locked in a battle with myself about whether several cookies and a glass of milk are as nutritionally viable…
– I am a sucker for good barbecue. There isn’t a lot of it in Washington, at least not in Seattle. I suppose it’s so cold and grey here that no one wants to stand outside next to a smoker for several hours. Or maybe it’s because there are a lot of folks out there…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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