Facelift

So, how do y’all like the new look? Since the family website has a notorious history of pirating content off my blog, I decided to steal some design elements off the website. I also copied almost all the posts off my old blog. Casteluzzo now tells the entire story (up till now) of our search for a dream to call home.

So here we are. We have a moment to breathe. All we have to do now for citizenship is to periodically take Gianfranco in the Anagrafe cookies, so he’ll remember to work on our case.

Tomorrow’s the Fourth of July. No fireworks here, but we’re having the missionaries over for lunch. We’ll NOT have pasta, in honor of the occasion. I bought two crates of peaches on Tuesday when we were up in Saluzzo. I froze half of them yesterday (I adore frozen peaches, and I’m planning to get a blender so we can have smoothies. A blender is essential for summer), and I’m going to make peach crisp. That’s pretty American. I’m just not that fond of apple pie.

I am, however, very excited about having Thanksgiving here. I’m not sure why. It’s always been one of my favorite holidays. Whenever I walk in a bread shop and see the wide selection of breads ready-toasted to a crisp (Italians like to dip them in their coffee, I think), I fantasize about making stuffing. I don’t know if they eat turkey here, though. I may just have to buy a very large chicken.

On Saturday there’s an event in Cuneo called “Isola di Mondo,” where people from different countries set up booths and sell traditional foods. Carla is doing one of the United States. She asked us to come man it. They’re selling chocolate chip cookies, brownies, apple pie, and pancakes. They had the idea of making the apple pie and pancakes ahead and freezing them. She asked if Tony and I could make the pancakes sometime this week in a kitchen they have set aside in Cuneo for the event. I’m a little skeptical about days-old pancakes. I also never thought of pancakes as a traditional American thing, but I guess they are.

Last night we were babysitting Rebecca (Carla’s two-year-old daughter), and I didn’t have much time to cook, between refereeing three toddlers. So guess what we had for dinner–pancakes!