...at last. After a couple of days wherein otherwise small problems appeared disproportionally big, and where my patience was worn, we finally started our vacation today. As usual, it takes some time realizing that you don't have to go to work every day, so instead of sitting at home worrying if there's something we should've done, we went on a road trip to Åre, Sweden. Besides, the weather kind of sucked this morning, so it's not like we missed out on some ray-time.
Driving to either one of the closest towns across the border is like being part of a weird social experiment - the only Swedish-speaking people you're likely to meet are the ones working in the stores, restaurants, etc. The prevalent language in the aural landscape (God - how pretentious was that expression) is Norwegian - more specifically, trøndersk.
After the 2.5 hour drive and some hanging around/shopping, we were SO in the market for some grub. For some weird reason, the self-proclaimed town cafeteria closes shop at 3 PM, so we opted for the first restaurant we came across, which happened to be the "Madonna" in the so-called winter village of Åre (Åre of course being a very popular winter sport venue). When we entered the premises, I discovered to my great dismay that they professed to be an authentic "Italian" place, and thus only served pasta. In my experience with "authentic" Italian restaurants, all their dishes are the same - the only difference being the shape and size of the pasta, and if the sauce is tomato or cream-based. Consequently, it all tastes the same, and don't get me started about the "Italian" pizza - that sorry, crisp and thin piece of white bread with a minute splash of tomato sauce and cheese near the middle of the disc. Italians are the Mexicans of Europe. Invariably, after eating at an "authentic" Italian restaurant I'm hungry, miserable and I've got this nagging feeling of having been screwed with my pants on.
And of course; the dish I ended up with matched my previously described stereotype perfectly - A bunch of "little" pasta with a fat, creamy sauce, a few slices of really fatty chorizo or salami or what have you, and some olives thrown in for good measure. Considering that Italian food is all fat and carbs, they'll have mastered cold fusion and telepathy, and colonized Mars before their country produces a strength athlete who can break the 100 kg barrier on bench press - not assisted by AAS, Insulin and GH, that is. A 30-15-55 diet, it isn't. To conclude; if we ever travel to Italy on vacation, I'll make good and damned sure that the town we go to has a decent steak house. Or at the very least McDonalds. And that one can get a hold of imported (non-Italian, that is) wine - France, Spain, Australia, Chile, USA, even Austria - anywhere they produce a red wine which isn't just colored water with a splash of alcohol.
In summary - FINALLY it's vacation time!
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7 comments:
In my experience with "authentic" Italian restaurants, all their dishes are the same - the only difference being the shape and size of the pasta, and if the sauce is tomato or cream-based. Consequently, it all tastes the same,
Man, this brings back memory from Pasta Sentral. That's the description you used back then...
And I love Italian food (and mexican, for that matter). Was in Toscany for my summer holiday two years ago, and man was that great food and wine. Love the ham, the chroizo's and all kinds of pasta.
Sure ya do, "Big Guy". ;-)
Yeah; I might have said something similar about Pastasentralen.
I like mexican food, but you've got to admit it's all the same. If the soft tortilla is closed in both ends or open in one, it's got different names, for God's sakes.
The only Italian wine I've tried that isn't tasteless or falls into the "way too tart" category is Canaletto.
Mexican food is hot. It tastes very different, but after the first bite, your mouth goes numb, so you can't notice the difference. At least that's the case with good Mexican food... ;-)
I think we our views on Italian food are as opposite as our views on guitars...
I suspect you're right about that. Btw; I found a fantastic drinking game for guitarists - to be played by two or more participants.
One guitar player mentions a band (let's say Deep Purple), and points to another guitarist. This guitarist then has to either a)play something by this band (like Smoke On The Water), or b)name one guitar player of that band (Ritchie Blackmore). If alternative b is chosen, he then shouts out "Ritchie Blackmore" and points to another participant (or back to the original), who then has to play something composed by that guitar player (like "Burn" by Blackmore). Failure in any steps mentioned here means having to down a shot. Having similar taste in music is a hyooge advantage here..
Can you imagine how drunk we'd get if we tried to play that? If I started, I'd go "Pagan's Mind", and you'd have to take a shot. In turn, you'd say "Blind Boy/Hound Dog/T-Bone/Elmore/Sonny Boy/Lightnin' Whatever", and unless the band name was identical to the name of the guitarist, I'd have to take a shot, before countering with "Firewind", and so on. None of us would've ever gotten to the stage of actually playing.
I think I would have been pretty drunk pretty fast. You, on the other hand, could have gotten away with a 12 bar shuffle on any of my artist ("I don't remember the title or key of this one, but it goes like this...")
;-)
Dayum; didn't think of that. Say; how 'bout we play this game in August?
Yeah, 'cause we really do need games on that occasion. The kind that involves large quantities of alcohol...
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