Meet my new friends Silvia and Franchesco:
They are newlyweds originally from Naples, Italy, and now living just around the corner from me! Franchesco is a serious perfectionist who’s trying to figure out life, career and the English language every single day. He works hard and thinks hard and wants the best life he can create for himself and his lovely wife. They both get up early every day, have coffee, get dressed, and work the internet to find the right jobs; so far, they’ve had no luck. But they believe the opportunities are better here, in Ireland, than they were in Italy or Spain, where they spent the last five years.
And I believe in them. So last night, after a truly marvelous meal (I ate things I’ve never had and loved every single bite!) at their home, Franchesco made me coffee. But it wasn’t coffee, it was espresso. And it wasn’t decaf, which is what I drink, it was full-on Italian espresso made in this little pot on the stove and served in this little cup:
And the moral of the story?
I was up until 5 am.
And it was worth every sip.
But it wasn’t just the coffee that kept me up; it was watching
The People’s Choice on ustvnow.com, which streams live shows
from America right to my bed! Ya can’t beat that!
So, around 1:30 pm today, I arose from slumber and went into the kitchen to
make my own version of a cafe mocha. Last week, Silvia and I went to
Butlers: Purveyors of Happiness to buy chocolates:
(that’s Silvia) and I got a box of Hot Chocolate Drink candy…so you take a piece and stir it into hot milk and there you have it. My bright idea was to put the milk and candy into the microwave and heat it up, then take that cup and put it under our espresso machine so that the coffee would go directly into the cup of hot milk and everything would be nice and good and chocolatey and hot. And it was. Until I had to push back the big handle that makes the coffee come out. That’s when the whole thing–the whole cup–spilled all over the effin kitchen. I mean, seriously, it went everywhere.
I did not take a picture of that. I leave no evidence behind except for 946 paper towels and a wet broom.
Now my landlady is one of those people who has four of everything and they are all in their right places all the time; in other words, she’s neat and organized (as a former high school principal, I guess she had to be!). But for the life of me I could find no mop. There are plastic things hanging in the broom closet that look like they could be mops if they had any mop-like stuff attached to them, but I could find no such stuff. So, after taking off my favorite pj pants, and my new free-when-you-buy-fragrance robe from Ulta and starting a wash (which is right there in the kitchen, so why not?), I set about cleaning up with paper towels and a broom that I periodically stuck into a wash bin filled with dish detergent.
I am currently waiting for Triona to come back from errands to tell her not to walk into the kitchen for fear she will slip and break something and everyone in Ireland will hate me and send me back.
I could learn a lesson from Jerry Seinfeld and next time, just “get my coffee on the outside.” 😉