Fruit of the Vine: Fresh Grape Jam

Elisa di Pentima, who we’ve been staying with since arriving in Milan, displayed the art of making homemade grape jam. First she washed the grapes and then sat down at the table with 2 bowls. She put the skins in one bowl and the flesh in another. Then she put two pots on the stove and boiled each for a long time. After a while, she pushed the flesh part through a strainer and added it to the skins in order to get rid of the seeds. I asked her when she would add the thickening agent and she said that it wasn’t necessary. She simply dipped the wooden spoon in the pot and let it drip down to test the consistency. Needless to say, we’ve been thoroughly enjoying the result of this project every morning since then. For breakfast, Italians eat something sweet with their first espresso. So, we’ve indulged in this fresh jam on fresh bread on top of a layer of ricotta cheese. It's a good thing we must do a lot of walking!

Our Elder

We have been positively affected already by the elder, Ezio Madureri, at our little Sunday morning in Monza, just north of Milan. He is in his mid-90s but doesn’t let his age get him down. He is deaf, but hasn’t let that be a handicap. In fact, he has written several hymns that are in the Italian hymnbook. He is extremely intelligent with several books and inventions to his name, but that hasn’t made him too proud for his humble meeting.

One Sunday, Wayne sat down and played one of the hymns that he wrote and he smiled and began to stroke the back of Wayne’s head. You see, he can enjoy music by vibration. It is our privilege to know and meet with him in his last days.

The honest street vendor

There are a few honest people left in the world, at least there's one man in Italy. One day this week, I stopped at a newsstand to buy some tickets for the metro. I handed him 10 Euro, or so I thought. Then, I walked down the street towards home but soon I heard someone running behind me yelling "scuzi, signora" and a man started excitedly babbling (and of course gesturing) in Italian. I managed to understand something about the man that sold me the tickets. So, he took my arm and led me back to the newsstand and the vendor was there waiting, waving 10 Euro at me. I had given him 20 Euro as the second bill was wrapped around the first one. Needless to say, it was heartwarming to know that he was honest and made an effort to make things right!

The train to paradise

For just 11 euro per person, you can jump on a train from Milano and in 40 minutes, you arrive in Como or for 14 euro and 2 hours on a train you arrive in Torino (Turin - where the Olympics were held recently). Wayne and I decided it was time to explore and try our hand at navigating the European railways. What fun we had surfing our way to our seats as the train began to roll forward toward the Alps! We were more than ready to arrive to Como and take in the Alps (Alpis in Italiano), Lake Como and breathe some clean air. The weather was perfect - not too hot, but hot enough to beg for a gelato midday.

We returned to Milan for meeting on Sunday and then jumped on a train again on Sunday afternoon to go to Torino. Fred Parsons from Boston, Wayne's dad's compadre from years back was in Torino on business. (He heard about meetings after tripping over Paul Boyd praying in the bunks on the way to the bathroon during the Korean War era.)

We wonder who of our friends or family will be the first to jump on a train with us to one of these neat places?

Ciao from Italia

We arrived into Milan last Thursday, the 31st of August. The first sight we saw when we stepped off the plane (after we blinked away some foregone sleep) was the sun shining off the Alps. They were already covered with snow. It was a beautiful, welcome sight as well as the crisp morning air.

Believe it or not, all our bags arrived and we were greeted at the airport with our friend (one of our ministers here) Pasquale di Pentima. He came with his small Fiesta car that has a gas tank and a propane tank. It was a very tight squeeze to get all the luggage in, but amazing enough it fit! I was covered completely in the back seat. Every few miles driving from the airport, Pasquale would ask if I was okay and I managed to squeak out "i'm fine."