Mozzarella- the Real Stuff

The other night I decided to go to TGIF to eat. That decision was not a mistake. However, what I chose to eat certainly was. Their special was mozzarella and tomatoes, with some other ingredient I cannot recall. I must have been too disappointed at the mozzarella to have noticed. I am a very biased person when it comes to cheeses, for I grew up overseas in countries where the making of cheese was an art. After I tried that mozzarella, which tasted like a mix between wet cardboard soy milk, I was thoroughly convinced to never buy mozzarella in state college again.

Back in Italy, in the region of Campagna, I had the privilege to eat some of the best mozzarella in the world. The smell on the way to school was sometimes not the most pleasant odor to wake up to. However, a plate of prosciutto and mozzarella at dinner would completely make up for it.

I remember one of my first field trips out in town was to a mozzarella factory. We were taken behind the scenes to watch the process that is taken to make this peculiar cheese. Mozzarella di Buffalo is made from the whole milk of s buffalo. It is not used for drinking and therefore every bit is used in the production process.

Once the milk is brought in, it is curdled, and drained to eliminate the whey. By hand the producers grind up the curds, and chine them even further in what looks like a small mill.  At this point, the curds are poured into boiling hot water, where it then takes on its rubbery outside texture.  The cheese maker then forms each ball individually, kneading it with his hands. He then immerses them in cold water and brine so that it may keep its shape and texture.

Just by writing this blog I have become extremely hungry as my mouth waters over the original and addicting savor of the cheese. I miss seeing the valleys of water buffalo in Naples, for they were the means to which I could stuff myself on that delicious cheese every week.

Small World

The saying, “It’s a small world” could never be more true. I cannot even recall the amount of times I’ve performed an embarrassing action, like tripping over air, in front of a crowd of people only to have my friends say, “Oh you’ll never see them again anyways.” Nothing could be farther from the truth. Just today I met a girl who attended a Doddea school like me. What are the chances of meeting this girl in my freshman seminar class? We were randomly partnered up and, after talking about our history together, we found out that we had the exact same friends. It’s crazy. There were only 54 students graduating from Rota, Spain, and 94 from Naples, Italy. Often we would go compete at volleyball championships in Wiesbaden, Germany, and never met each other.

Sig.org

Of course we bonded immediately. Just by laughing how everyone think that we are either foreigners of enlisted in the military provided an opportunity for many laughs. We have both been stationed in Sigonella, Italy. Referred to as the Mediterranean Hub, it housed a few more people than Rota. That was my favorite base. Being so far south, it always seemed to be sunny. Even though it was a U.S. Naval station, it housed all units, and testing sites for numerous aircrafts. Sometimes it was annoying to hear the aircrafts overhead when it was so early in the morning. The most frequent aircrafts that rip bye are the  U.S. Air Force C-130, C-17 and C-5 airlifters, KC-135 and KC-10 tankers. For the size of some of those aircrafts, they could shake the place up at times. Since there was so much empty space for air landings, much of the terrain was cleared for running paths. I had no excuse not to be fit then. With all the hills I was in the best shape of my life.

Since this was an island base, in order to travel we need to fly to other bases. It sure beat nine hour buss rides, and we were lucky enough to reserve out own planes. The only demand? That we bring back some sort of medal. We were fine with meeting those demands

O' Napoletan'!

When I first came to Penn State my counselor told me I needed to talk a language in order to pursue the Paterno Fellow program. I thought to myself that after living in Italy for a few years it wouldn’t be that hard. My first day the professor spoke in nothing but Italian. I understood everything he said, as the students around me were starting to sweat bullets. I thought that I would never have to study. Sure enough that Friday we were to have our first grammatical review quiz. Of course I didn’t study.

Flikr

When the quiz came back I was shocked. How on earth could I have gotten a C? I was so embarrassed. Then I realized: I was implementing the dialect that I picked up without even thinking. Italy is notorious for the various forms of dialect, especially in the south. Napoletano, the dialect spoken in Naples, is more known to foreigners than the actual language. This is due to its popularity in many famous Italian songs.  In almost all mafia movies and the like Neapolitan is the preferred dialect. Unfortunately, for those who pick up on this, they are out of luck for grammatical purposes. The articles are almost always dropped for bare vowels, plurals are never correct (my errors on the quiz). However, I cannot understand all of it. It is a completely different language, and frowned upon by all other parts of Italy. In Rome, hotels will not admit people who speak with a southern dialect. When asked where I lived when I was up north, I would always say Rome. Saying I lived in Naples was an instant ticket to higher cab fees, no open hotel rooms, and downright poor service.

La Vera Pizza is a traditional pizzeria downtown in Pizza Plebiscito, in which there is always a group of men singing traditional Neapolitan music. Even though I do not understand all the words, its an opportunity that anyone visiting Naples should never miss. They come to each table and play a range of songs, which tends to draw crowds of people to listen to their music. I cannot blame them for picking up on the poor grammatical phrases; however, I am not ashamed to say I can speak their dialect. I just have learned to keep it out of the classroom.