Despite the unattractive color of my feet at the moment, I could not care less. As far as I'm concerned, the more I walk, the more I can eat. That is what I do here: I walk, I eat, and in between I discover my way around the city. This morning, two of my new friends and I started off our day doing all three simultaneously. We woke up at 8a.m. and I power walked to the Duomo to meet them at their apartment. I use the Duomo as a point of reference because if they lived any closer, they'd live in the sacristy. I had my morning cafe and we made for the mercato centrale. We arrived at the magic tents this morning and I got the pleasure of showing them around.
We ventured through the fruit and I informed them that the grouchy, short woman had the best vegetables while the ponytailed-man had amazing figs. While they didn't take me up on the normal, green fichi, we all discovered fichi di india. I pulled out my mantra, "Come si dice?" and the vendor repeated, "fichi di in-d-yuh" until I exclaimed, "Ohhhh, INDIA!" Once we made it through that exchange, he scurried over to the neighboring vendor and grabbed a knife. He demonstrated how to cut open the "fichi di india" skin, cut it into three pieces, and handed each of us one. Despite the obnoxious size and quantity of the seeds, the juice and flavor of this fruit completely overwhelmed your tastebuds. It is completely unique. By no means is it my favorite fruit, but it is still outstanding. I bought one to show my gratitude and the girls bought three softball size peaches - all for two Euro. I truly love this place.
After our Sub-Asian excursion, we came back to Italy and went inside the meat market. This place can be very abnormal and troublesome for someone who is not used to the nonchalant nature of Italians and their meat products. Take a vegetarian in here and it's a-whole-nother ball game. We took it slow and purchased mezzo kilo di ricotta. Then we jumped right in and my excitement took over. I started pointing out all of the foods you can never find in America: chicken heart, cow tongue, spleen, et cetera (I need to make a memo to myself to remember that what I find fascinating is rarely "fascinating" to anyone else). When my friends were sufficiently grossed out, we made our way over to my butcher friends, Sandro and Michele.
I explained that I wouldn't be purchasing the coniglio this morning since we were all making salmone that evening. Michele assured me that it was perfectly fine and to let him know when I wanted it and he would make sure there were fresh ones in the freezer for me along with two recipes on how to prepare it. Probably eager to change the topic from rabbit meat, my vegetarian friend, Bre, commented on the soccer posters hanging on the wall. Since we've all (clearly) read Eat, Pray, Love before our arrival, we are dying to go to a soccer game. Bre, an avid soccer player herself, led this charge. After asking a few questions about the team and their schedule, Michele told Bre to return Monday morning and he and Sandro would introduce us to Sandro's son. Michele explained that he would be the one to get tickets from since he is a soccer player himself. We agreed and Michele then told us to go eat at a little pizzeria near the market. We were informed that the food is cheap and if we told the waiter Michele sent us, we would be taken care of. Before leaving, I asked one more question, "Where are the midnight bakeries we've heard so much about?" Michele gave us directions that took us on a thirty minute hike across the Ponte Vittoria to this little eatery that apparently is one of the only bakeries open after midnight.
After leaving the market, we dropped off the food at my apartment and decided to find this bakery at 9:30a.m. The girls were on a mission to find a pastry and I'm always eager to explore. It may have been the heatstroke and exhaustion talking, but the pastries were fantastic and well worth the trek. Making our way back to the center of town, we decided to go to lunch at the restaurant Michele recommended. On the way we got slightly lost, took many a picture, and did a little window shopping. By 11:30 we were beyond famished and ordered our aqua naturale e tre pizza margherita. While they were large and inexpensive pizza, I must admit, I already have had tastier and less expensive pizza. Even still, I finished the entire pie and enjoyed it thoroughly. By the time lunch was over, I was ready for my siesta.
I walked the ten minutes back to my apartment, crawled into bed and passed out. There is nothing better than collapsing into bed from exhaustion and falling into a deep sleep with a stomach full of pizza and pastries... in Firenze no less.
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