I have celebrated the year changing exactly thirty-four times. That is a lot of ball drops, backward counting and champagne toasts. In the thirty-four times I have seen the calendar progress another year, I have experienced elaborate dinners, small family gatherings, massive ballroom parties and cozy nights in. I have had “the night of my life” and “the disappointment of a lifetime.” In all this time, I have learned that a valuable life lesson. When you place an unhealthy amount of expectations on any one thing (in this case, an evening), it is hard to meet or exceed the vision you’ve created in your own head.
Fireworks light up the sky behind Milan’s Duomo
Fortunately, disappointment was not the theme as we rang in 2014. The stakes were at an all-time high and the night came together as well as anyone could have hoped. A couple months ago we got an email from our friends Matt and Lindsey that they wanted to come to Italy and ring in the new year with us. Our plans for a low-key Italian New Years with the traditional zampone and lentils quickly changed as I scoured the dinner venues of Milan. After a lot of research, we came up with a plan that we thought was perfect. A prix-fixe meal at a lounge just steps from Milan’s Duomo in the main piazza (square). Jen read that there would be fireworks visible at midnight and so the plan sounded perfect.
A stage was set up in front of the Duomo for live performances throughout the night
Matt and Lindsey arrived the night before New Years and we enjoyed a low-key dinner that Jen prepared. Matt got to the train station in typical “Matt fashion”… three hours late, without any warning of his delay and a frantic look in his eyes. We were both glad I waited for the last train to pull into the station!
When I made our New Year’s dinner reservation, I was told that we should arrive at 8:30pm. I knew the Italians wouldn’t be arriving at that time, so I planned our arrival at 9:00pm. We were still about an hour early! So much for looking like a local! We started our evening with a little prosecco (Italian champagne) and moved through our four course meal accompanied by some great red wine and sparkling conversation. The atmosphere for a New Year’s dinner was perfect. The music and lights were set just right, as if to say, “this place is hip and you’ve still got it” as opposed to saying, “this place is entirely too formal – what are you doing here, you’re still sort of young!” Or even worse, “this is a club with twenty-somethings and you old fogies don’t fit in at all.” By the time all the Italians had arrived, it was evident we picked the right place for dinner. We were surrounded by some of Milan’s elite – fashion designers and models.
Matt and Lindsey
Greg and Jen
We’re ready to have some fun!
Our group at dinner
Out of nowhere, it was almost midnight. We surprised our server by telling him we wanted the bill, as opposed to staying for their champagne toast. We had bigger plans in place! We rushed to the Duomo, a five minute walk through a dense sea of people. We arrived with just a couple minutes left until midnight and I struggled to prepare everything. We had brought bottles of prosecco and Jen insisted on plastic champagne glasses. While thousands of other people were counting down and swigging from their bottles, I was fiddling with the bases for the plastic glasses. I had only finished two glasses when the countdown reached five, so I threw the remaining glasses on the ground in desperation. I’d be damned if “etiquette” was going to get in the way of us having our bubbly at midnight!
Jen and Lindsey in front of the Duomo
Me and Jen just after midnight
In keeping with tradition, Jen tried calling our family to wish them a “Happy New Year”
We had been excited to see the fireworks light up the night’s sky behind the Duomo all night. When we arrived in the piazza, we learned that the firework show Jen had read about was a different kind of event altogether. Please allow me to give a small background for our international readers. You see, Americans do fireworks right! I think it’s in our DNA, like baseball and childhood obesity. So when we read that there would be fireworks, we assumed it was going to be a major production – administered by professionals at a safe distance from the crowd. We have never been so wrong. All the fireworks being set were ignited by people from within the crowd. There were literally explosions at our feet, above our heads, behind our backs at regular minute-long intervals. It was not uncommon to see a huge gap in the crowd as dozens of people pushed and shoved their way away from a ready to explode M-80 or Excalibur Artillery Shell. It evoked a strange sensation of festive revelry with an ever-present sense of impending doom. The Outkast song “Bombs Over Baghdad” kept playing over and over in my mind.
Fireworks above the crowd
Jen and Lindsey show their sheer terror
Someone (ehehm… Jen) spilled prosecco all over Matt
We all agreed that the night would land in the “Epic New Year’s Eve” column as opposed the other column, “How Much Did I Spend For This Awful Disappointment?!” We stayed in the piazza until roughly 1:00am before heading home. We didn’t want to get back too late, we had to depart early the next day for the road trip of a lifetime. Matt and I were ringing in the new year by checking off a lifelong bucket list item… skiing the Swiss Alps!
When our friends, Nathan and Danielle had come to visit this past spring – Danielle pointed at a unique outdoor-oven-with-a-chimney-thingy in a neighbors yard and asked what it was. I replied with all the confidence in the world that it was an Italian-style BBQ, but in reality I wasn’t positive. I had seen the smoke billowing through the chimney and I had seen many of these things in other neighbors yards – but I had never inquired about it. I asked my “go-to guy for all things Italian”… Jen’s uncle, Franco. He confirmed that it was in fact a BBQ and a fairly typical one in Italy. So, my educated guess was right. Whew!
Classic Italian style outdoor grill
I noticed shortly thereafter that the typical gas Weber grills we’re accustomed to using in the States are non-existent here. In fact, it’s possible you may see a round charcoal grill – but more often than not, it’s one of these large, permanent fixtures that people use to grill.
Jen may rule the kitchen around here, but I’ve always loved to rock the grill! As soon as I learned of this wonderful outdoor oven (it’s really more of a wood burning oven, than a simple grill) I knew that we absolutely needed one. However, we live in a condo with other families and we needed everyone’s approval before one of these beauties could bask in our communal yard. Franco became the champion of the project and pitched it at the very next board meeting. The grill got a unanimous vote and so when Jen’s parents were here visiting, we went to acquire the grill.
Franco, Dominic and Gianfranco discuss the various merits of certain grills with the clerk
Once again, I learned that things that are usually simple in the States (i.e. buying a car or procuring cell phones) is not necessarily the case in Italy. Buying a grill requires many visits to the store, many discussions, lots of construction and many more discussions. I was a little taken aback when Franco picked up cement and outdoor paint, realizing this was going to be a much bigger project than I originally expected.
Collaborating on the best way to load the grill into the truck
After our second or third visit to the hardware store, Dominic purchased the grill and we loaded it onto a friend’s truck. He helped us deliver it to the building and we carried the unbelievably heavy grill, piece by piece into the yard. A week or so into the project and we were only marginally complete. The grill lay disassembled, piles of cement and stone until we all returned from a quick jaunt to Scotland. By the time I was finally able to roll up my sleeves and start slinging cinder blocks – Jen’s parents had boarded a plane bound for the States. Sadly, Dominic never got to enjoy the BBQ that he helped acquire. That certainly didn’t stop his brother, Franco from encouraging me to send him images of our first festa (party). Brothers will be brothers!
Construction begins
Stefano helps mix the cement as Franco and I set the frame
Stage One complete!
Claudia scolds me in Italian for dunking Julia’s head
Julia thought this was the funniest thing
Julia wanted to help
We place the final piece
And we’re done! Our new grill is complete
My beautiful baby
The first party we had was a blast. Our neighbors below are from Naples – and boy, do they know how to party. They had extended family show up and bring delectable treats with them. I was pushed away from the grill as Aurelia and her husband, Stefano took over. As I watched a jaw-dropping amount of meat depart the grill – I was glad I had been sent to the sidelines. I know now that I was out of my depth. We feasted on pork ribs, beef ribs, lamb, porchetta, speck and various types of salsiccia (sausage). Our waistlines thanked us for the grilled vegetables – eggplant, zucchini, peppers and more. We devoured homemade salumi and cheeses that kept appearing each time I turned around. Of course, the cheeses were from all over Italy (“this is from Veneto… aged 24 months” or “my grandmother made this in Napoli… it stayed under ground for 36 months”). Hours later, the desserts (insert image of the best homemade tiramisu’s I’ve ever had) and then the coffee appeared. This was quickly followed by round after round of grappa (homemade, of course). All this – and it was just a first of many parties!
Franco shows me how it’s done
This was the first image that I sent to Dominic – I still feel guilty, but Franco and I got a kick out of it
Our first festa went late into the night
Since then, we’ve had many more outdoor parties – including a pizza party, where all the Napolitane baked their own bread and made pizza from scratch.
Setting the table
Now the food has arrived
All different types of homemade pizza
Various types of homemade cheeses from Napoli
Stefano got a mini-keg of beer
Aurelia teasing us for taking so many photos
The food was delicious
Cousins and nieces and nephews. Neighbors and friends – the best kind of pizza party
This seemed to be the easiest way to transport all the grappa
When my parents were here visiting, we decided it was another good time for a BBQ.
Everyone gathers around, doing various tasks
Julia plays a little calico (soccer)
Stefano gets a few lookey-loo’s while grilling (including my dad, who couldn’t understand a word being said)
Beef ribs get a nice sear while the charcoals glow beautifully
Jen’s cousins, Franco and Claudia and my parents
Aurelia telling me “smettere” (stop) with the photos. Her sister Angelina shows me the meat
The pot kept getting magically refilled with grilled meat before it was ever emptied
Everyone digs in
Julia was certainly no exception
Another late party
Another time, we wanted to bring all the family together and so all of Jen’s cousins came for a festa.
The younger generation of cousins pose together
I’ve used the grill for a simple meal for the five of us (myself, Jen and Julia along with Franco and Claudia) and not to be outdone by any Italians – I got about three times more meat than necessary.
Would you eat an entire picante peperoncino – Franco shows us how it’s done
All told, we’ve had a wonderful grilling season and while I’m anxious for the fall and then winter – I’m already looking forward to the time when I can dust off the ol’ tongs and have another Italian-style BBQ!
We knew the deadline was coming for months… January 3rd was staring us in the face for a long time. January 3rd rustled up feelings of excitement (me and Jen), nervousness (Jen…ok, me a little) and stress (mainly me).
It got here before we were ready. We still had a list a mile long on January 2nd and I don’t think either of us were as prepared as we thought to say goodbye to our friends and family. Jen’s girlfriends threw an incredible send-off hosted at Mike and Aubrey Ciatto’s home.
Aubrey and Mike’s beautiful home – nice touch with the flag
And then… all of a sudden, we woke up on January 3rd. We hugged our first set of goodbyes to my parents, Julia’s “Pop-Pop and Grandma” in Darnestown, and got a little misty when my usually stoic parents both shed a couple tears.
Next, we started our entourage-like caravan with Jen’s family and our massive amounts of luggage to Dulles International. Dom had the foresight to make a move that helped with our travel more than he may have known. He flagged down a caddy to assist with our ample amounts of luggage (four massive checked bags, two massive carry-ons, four personal items, a stroller and a car seat). This patient gentleman asked Jen to stand in an unending line, while he escorted me to the front to unload our luggage. He told me to guard my luggage while I waited for Jen to wind her way through the line and meet me so we can check in at our proper place in line.
“Arrivederci“
When no one moved after 15 minutes, it became quickly apparent the flight was delayed. Actually… not delayed. Non-existant. The plane was still grounded in Sweden due to “technical errors” (must have been a new Boeing Dreamliner).
Picture this… Jen is standing in line, behind about 40 very upset, very impatient travelers. I am standing at the front with a mountain of luggage to meet her. After some time, I started to inch my way toward the first class line and acted as if I belonged there. As soon as a spot finally became available, I walked right up and asked about our options. We were put on a flight with a sister airline departing immediately that got us in Milan only three hours behind schedule. I heard a rumor it was one of the last flights of it’s kind and given the fact that they could only help about one person every 20 minutes, I am fairly certain we procured the last three seats on that plane (I know, I should probably feel a little guilty about this… but most of you know me well enough to know that I don’t).
We were escorted to security by Jen’s parents, “Nonno & Nonna” and her sister, “Zia Jess” and the second round of tearful goodbyes commenced. Dom gave us an encouraging look and with the confidence and support of the whole family, we rushed to make our plane.
We touched down on January 4th weary, smelly, hungry, and over-tired. But we were also very excited and thrilled.
We realize this is a very long and detailed post. It is our first on this blog (or any blog), so fear not – I’m sure that due to time constraints and a sheer lack of will power, most future postings will be much shorter. So hang in there and please continue to read about our tales. We hope that blogging about our adventure is as fun for you to read as it will be to write and experience.
