Home again, home again, jiggity, jig

For two nights now Scott and I have awakened in the dead of night not knowing where we were. In the dark, home seems foreign. By the light of day, it is a delight.
After arriving home about 5 p.m. on Tuesday, I began dinner while Scott unloaded the van. I had already decided on the drive home from Houston that I was going to make one of my favorite dishes from Italy (and one that I wrote of in the blog) of spaghetti with anchovies, capers and hot pepper. We had stopped at the store on the way home and I picked up some arugula, a few blood oranges and looked at the fennel, but passed them up as they were small and gray, obviously past their prime. So a simple salad would accompany the pasta dish. We had brought home a stash of anchovies in olive oil and the giant capers they use (I have seen them here but at about 6 times the cost of the ones we bought...however, not buying them might have helped offset the 90 Euro charge from the airline for overweight luggage), so as Scott unloaded the van, I began tearing through the suitcases for provisions. And I proceeded to try to recreate the dish I ate so often in Italy. I have to admit I was anchovie shy, not wanting them to overpower the dish. In retrospect, I wish I had doubled the amount of anchovies. When dinner was just about ready, I realized we'd have no where to eat as the dining room table was stacked with a months worth of mail and various things I'd pulled from the suitcases while looking for ingredients. Scott said, "I'll take care of it..." and dashed outside. A few minutes later he walked back in and made a few spritz (he'd found the bottle of Campari we'd hauled home and there was, remarkably, an ice cold bottle of Italian sparkling wine in the fridge from before we left) and said, "Let's go eat!" and he led me outside. He had set up 2 hay bales in the driveway, one as our seat and one as our table. He'd opened the van doors and dialed the radio to our local classical station. We set our plates down on our makeshift dining table and breathed in the warm, sunny Texas Hill Country air and felt so glad to be alive. We looked around and Scott said, "Do you know what we would pay for a hilltop like this in Italy?" Indeed, I could probably make an educated guess and for right now, our hilltop is heaven. Yeah, when I went to our local grocery store this afternoon, I realized so much of what I wanted wasn't available but, on the other hand, I encountered a neighbor and caught up on some local gossip, saw that the blood oranges were on sale (and I stocked up) and felt happy with the familiarity of the place.

I have plans for a new garden, one based on what I saw on our trip. I brought home seeds for me and to share and hope to be able to better recreate some of the meals we had with some fresh produce from our garden. And of course, we are busy planning our next trip to Italy, probably in October/November of 2009.

Life is good.