my italian momma...

cooks for my friends while they sit around and smoke hash and drink wine....wait what?
yes it's true. yesterday went to jamie's apartment and met eddie, the mother of her italian rasta roommate (mau), a real live mama di firenze. as we were heading to the mercadona to do some shopping, eddie came with us to get some necessities for dinner. as she does not speak a word of english, and only understands fundamental spanish, there was a lot of hand gestering, repeating of words in loud voices (which helps in the translation, you know). finally we all figured out how to get what we want. on our way home she kept trying to take my bags, even though each of us had two. imagine this tiny, 5 foot italian mama grabbing my grocery bags and insisting that she is a strong dona! and by insisting i mean attacking me and pulling the bags out of my hands while speaking forcefully in italian. all the while jamie is up ahead singing britney's "womanizer" with no idea that i'm being accosted by a tiny but surprisingly strong italiana. it was quite the struggle, but she finally caved and let me keep the two i was holding (even though she seemed pretty weighed down with her two bags), and then she invited us to stay for dinner as she was making mau's fav: pasta e fagioli! yum. (also my fav italian food: although her version was incredibly simple and vegetarian-->jeanne i still like yours best!)
somehow it got across that i liked to cook and was a pastry chef, so eddie took it upon herself to teach me, step by step, her culinary mastery. of course then mau's friends from firenze came over and it was a big italian festivus, with jamie and i (the white girls) in the middle. apparently they have italian satellite tv, and let me tell you, italian is impossible to understand, even with 6 weeks of living in spain under my belt. there was even a spontaneous haircut (the outcome of which was not overly impressive, although jamie found the fellow much more attractive after the incident--mullet-euro-mohawks don't really do it for me, thanks). and all the while everybody is drinking wine and the rastas are smoking their hash, mama mau is chainsmoking away in the kitchen, ash tumbling from her cigs onto every surface and into every receptacle except the ashtray. it was surreal...i cannot imagine a situation where i would invite five of my friends over for dinner and proceed to smoke myself silly and imbibe large quantities of alcohol whilst my mother slaves away in the kitchen. i must say though, she makes a mean pot of pasta e fagioli. and for dessert, fraises y nata (Strawberries and whipped cream)....mmm. unfortunately mau doesn't like rosemary in his pasta, so, since i was so inspired by my spontaneous cooking lesson, i went to school today (school?! on a saturday?! and picked some fresh rosemary so tonight i am going to make my own spicy marinara a la italiana...minus the cigarette ash, of course.