Fresh produce day in Bolzano.
My Italian friend had business in a nearby town so I decided to tag along, in search of a t-shirt. How very American of me.
Now, I know they have t-shirts because I see every guy in town sporting one but it's a well kept secret as to where they get 'em.
Oh, I hate to even acknowledge this sad fact but my days here are numbered.
I have not purchased a dang thing for the horse sitters, house sitters and orchid sitters on my list.
Other than to sucker my Italian friend's husband out of 2 of the most delightful bottles of local wine I've ever experienced.
So, you'd think ~ since I was in the big city ~ I'd knock a few things off my to-do list. Instead, I poked around the local market.
Don't those artichokes look yummy??
The local spice shop.
Food, here, is a celebration of everything that's good about life. (I've not seen a 'healthy eating' commercial since I arrived and NO ONE is on a diet. Such a refreshing change from health-obsessed USA.)Shopping is a joy, as well. There's the bread shop, the cheese shop, the meat shop and the glorious produce that shows up every Wednesday causing a frenzied amount of dickering among the locals.
Buon Appetito! They say, before picking up their forks and slowly savoring every bite of every meal.
Stores close each day from noon to three, so the shop owners can properly enjoy their lunch. A 3 hour lunch is standard fare! That is one of the many traditions I'd like to bring home with me to America.
I wonder how long it will take before I get fired? :D
* Speck is the local's prosciutto and it is to. die. for. So much so, that before the full body screeners showed up at the airports a friend of ours smuggled Speck home strapped to her bod to avoid getting busted going through customs.
