First day of cooking with mama.

Yesterday was very busy. I rushed from mama’s to class then around town trying to find specific places. At 4 I had a walking tour around the school to point out places to eat, bank, drink and more importantly get good gelato. That made me late for cooking with mama. I basically ran through Florence in 5 o’clock traffic ( no one follows any traffic laws or red doesn’t mean stop here) and was 10 minutes late. I felt horrible, mama of course was fine and told me to go rest and we would start at 5:30. I must have looked a sweaty mess which she didn’t want in her kitchen.

Sadly I am the only one cooking this week but that is probably a good thing. Her kitchen is tiny. As short as she is she could reach across and touch both sides. The only way it works is the balcony is right off the kitchen and the clothes line acts as the holding table. We made a three course meal in less space than I would make a sandwich at home.

We started chopping vegetables for ratatouille which then cooked for the next two hours. We then made spinach ricotta “naked” pasta to boil later for the first course. For the second we made a parmigiana soufflé to go with the ratatouille. All which was finished with a ricotta lemon cheese cake. Cheese, cheese and more cheese. Mama loves ricotta.

We served food for five but had plenty for a few more. Dinner is served course style with wine for me and her husband. The two Colombian girls are not drinking. It would be perfectly acceptable in Italy but they might just be worried about mama’ opinion since she does not drink. She however is very quick to have her husband refill my glass for which I am grateful.

Italian is spoken pretty much exclusively at the table. I basically just nod and smile. She speaks perfectly good English and spoke that while cooking. Her husband speaks Italian only and she thinks the girls should be farther along after 3 months. So dinner can be a quiet event.

All in all a great night. Not sure if I will be able to recreate our meals. She promises me recipes but not sure a pico of flour will translate. It was pretty much just cooking by feel.